


Finding Family

by transfiguredtoad



Series: Finding Family [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brienne is pregnant, F/M, diverges season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfiguredtoad/pseuds/transfiguredtoad
Summary: A night with Jaime before Brienne leaves King's Landing has consequences that neither of them could have foreseen(Originally a one shot by me now extended into a full series)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Finding Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592281
Comments: 63
Kudos: 244





	1. Chapter 1

“What’s wrong?” he murmured in the same tone he had used when they had lain in bed together after he had taken her maidenhead. What’s wrong, Brienne? her own mind demanded. Come on, Brienne, tell him. 

She opened her mouth. The sword he’d given her glinted in the sunlight. She could hear her new squire talking with the sellsword behind him. Her hands shook and her heart ached and she closed her mouth. Shaking her head slightly, she gave him as much of a smile as she could muster. Her eyes were still burning, had been burning since she’d taken his armour earlier in the day, since she had seen the lions and sunbursts together, since she had considered what that meant.

His green eyes were sparkling. “I wish I was going with you.” It hurt too much. That hurt too much. Brienne’s throat burned but she just shook her head, ignoring his tears, ignoring her tears.

“You can’t,” she said simply, meeting his eyes one last time. There were still tears there. Moving her body away from his was difficult. Every muscle, including her brain and her heart, wanted to stay there. But her honour compelled her. Her love for Jaime compelled her.

The horse Jaime had provided felt warm beneath her thighs, though her heart was cold. She couldn’t look at him, not again. So, she glanced to her right and found her squire, Podrick, a boy she neither needed nor wanted, ready to go too. The horse started to walk and then to gallop and Brienne’s hands shook on the reins. She wasn’t too far yet. She could turn and see him. She could turn and go back to him, to his bed and his warmth, to his kind words and sparkling green eyes.

Instead, she merely turned, at the end of the road before the corner that would rip him from her for good. He still stood there, waiting, watching, alone. Brienne closed her eyes against the tears threatening to spill over and turned back towards the road. They had different paths ahead of them now, though she knew they would converge again one day. And he would likely hate her when they did.

They rode all day. Brienne lost herself in the feel of a horse beneath her and the wind in her ears and the beautiful sword at her hip. She watched the scenery fly by, watched the world fly by. When she was a girl, she had always wanted to be able to ride like this, away from everyone and everything, with a mythical sword at her waist. This was all she had ever wanted. She had never expected to have to leave a man behind to do it. She had never expected there to be a man to leave behind.

Brienne wasn’t sure if she had left him behind or if he had pressed her on.

Those thoughts didn’t help anything.

The squire was silent by her side. Brienne was glad of it. She did not have the energy nor desire to keep up a conversation. She wasn’t socially skilled at the best of times, least of all when she had left a man and a warm bed behind and taken an uncertain future with her.

They reached a decent clearing as the sun began to sink in the sky, turning it a dusky pink. It was pretty, Brienne thought dully. She wondered if her daughter’s clothes would be pink, if she would want pink clothes. Or perhaps she would want steel at her waist like her mother. Perhaps she would want both. Pink armour would be quite a spectacle.

But Brienne had already denied her daughter a father. She would deny her nothing else.

Brienne’s vision had blurred by the time she stepped down from her horse. She pressed her forehead to its saddle, wishing the whole thing away, the whole sorry mess. The second she’d thought it, the first tears came. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, whispering broken apologies. She pulled away from the horse and found the nearest solid thing that would not move, a tree, tall and old, its bark cracked and greyish. Brienne dug her fingers into cracks and crouched down, her thighs aching.

A sob catapulted from her throat, falling down at the last second, like a failing gymnast at a show. It felt as though someone were ripping her heart out. Oh, darling, darling, darling, she whispered mind-to-mind with her baby. “I’m sorry,” she rasped to the tree, sobs punching as they escaped her throat. It burned as she screamed for it all to stop, roaring against every fucker who had put her in this situation, against Cersei and Catelyn and Jaime and Jaime’s father and her- most of all her. This was her fault above all.

Her hands pulled at her hair as she fell forward onto her knees, almost as though she were praying to the Old Gods. Perhaps she should. Perhaps she should pray to any god who would hear her. A pathetic weeping continued to come from her. She hated it, hated it all. All of it except the baby that was so small and so loved by her mother.

Brienne did not know how long she knelt there, knees aching, head leaning against the tree. Her mind whirred with the awful possibilities, with the good possibilities, with ideas that made her want to lie down for years and never get up, to hide away, to return to Jaime, to go to Essos and never come back. Her legs collapsed beneath her.

The squire had brushed her horse and then tied it to his own, Brienne noticed as she curled up by the tree, bringing her knees to her chin. What must the squire think of her, collapsing in her armour and sobbing? She wondered if he would figure it out. When. It was far more likely to be when. She would dishonour him. He should leave her now.

Brienne did not say that though. She said nothing and nor did Podrick. He helped her with her armour first, approaching silently and giving a nervous look that Brienne ignored. The armour came off with difficulty. Podrick stacked it carefully and then left, taking a dagger with him. Brienne closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree.

“It’s going to be okay, baby,” she murmured, hoping it made the babe feel more settled. Emotions were not good for a babe, Brienne had heard. Emotional upheaval was not good. Brienne laughed a bit bitterly. She was already a terrible mother.

Podrick cooked them a rabbit he had managed to snare. If Brienne were in the right mind, she would have been impressed. Instead, she didn’t really react. He gave her half and Brienne ate it. It was tasteless but it fed her babe, gave her strength to carry on. She had to find all the strength she could.

Brienne threw the bones to the ground and then found her sleeping mat, rolling it out and curling up on it, feeling the ghost of Jaime’s body behind her. Her heart was in mourning for a future she would not have, a future she had deprived her daughter of. Mourning for a man she could not have.

She fell asleep at some point, after Podrick’s soft snores had started. Perhaps the knowledge that she was not alone comforted her. She slept for a little while and then woke and then slept again. When this cycle of fitful rest ended another time, the sun had begun to rise and Brienne decided to rise with it.

She was fed up of seeing Jaime above her anyway, fed up of his lips on hers and his kind words in her ears, his teasing whispers against her skin, his hands on her waist, between her thighs. In her dreams, he gave her a sword and his love with it. Tears burned in her eyes and she could not bear to pick up Oathkeeper, instead taking her short dagger to find some sustenance for the morning.

Podrick had woken when she returned. He took her catch and started to skin it while Brienne built a new fire. She knew he was giving her odd looks but she ignored them. There was nothing she could say.

They exercised together. In a dull voice, Brienne explained to her squire how essential exercise was to remain fit and ready to swordfight. The exercise she did was non-strenuous. If Brienne was honest, she knew next to nothing of pregnancy and what women could and could not do. Her mother had died in the childbed and her septa had told her scary stories. She had no maester to turn to, nor a female friend who could advise her. And Brienne refused to do anything that would risk the babe.

So, she stretched and did some squats but it was nothing near what she usually did. When the babe arrived, she would have to work twice as hard, thrice as hard to regain the muscle she would lose. The baby - her daughter - would be worth it. And then Brienne would be able to train with her. She was so sure already that it would be a girl.

Sparring was still on the table in Brienne’s eyes, especially since it would only be with Podrick and he was essentially useless with a sword. Brienne promised they would practise every morning until he was better. And, Brienne thought guiltily, until he would be able to protect her when she was big with child. 

When they were finished sparring and Podrick was sweating profusely and collapsed on the ground, drinking water like a man dying of thirst, Brienne looked over his head and smiled. She was going to turn him into something good. She would be the sort of person who could take something and form it into something good and true.

She would do it with her squire and then with her child.

XXX

The months crawled by as Brienne and Podrick searched for leads to find Sansa. Brienne’s affection for her awkward, stuttering squire had only grown as she taught him all he would need to know. He looked after her well, sorting her armour and finding food and all the other jobs a squire did. She looked after him as well as she could. She helped his body grow stronger and develop muscles. She sparred with him until his reflexes improved. She told him stories of knights and honourable men and what they did and what they should have done.

She even told him the things she had experienced from the men in Renly’s camp, and from the boys at the ball her father had organised for her. Podrick, sweet boy that he was, apologised on behalf of his entire gender. Brienne laughed until she cried, great heaving sobs as she remembered Jaime and his face and his love and his child.

The weeping did not abate until Podrick placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “your sickness has stopped.”

Brienne froze then, swallowing a sob in her shock. Her throat burned. He had not mentioned her sickness. She had not acknowledged it either, preferring to ignore it. She knew her child would not go away, did not want it to, but the fact of telling it made it so real and unchangeable and it would have changed her in the eyes of her squire.

“When did you guess?” Brienne asked, rasping. She looked more like a woman now as the babe grew inside her, curving her hips slightly and rounding her breasts. Even so, she was sure that she was the ugliest woman alive as she sat there, face red from crying, throat sore from gasping sobs.

Podrick shrugged and looked away. “Your armour doesn’t fit anymore.” That was true enough. Brienne had stopped wearing it two weeks ago, though she had worn a shirt of mail and still carried the blue armour wherever she went. It had been a gift from her baby’s father - from Jaime. “And you are funny with foods.”

Brienne had not even known that to be a symptom until the thought of the rabbit Pod had cooked one evening had sent her stomach roiling. And then, one night when they stopped in an inn, the thought of eating the innocuous stew had been practically unthinkable. Brienne had had to send it away. 

“How long have you known?” Podrick asked. Brienne half-smiled.

“Since the day we left.”

Podrick nodded. “I thought so.”

“It’s Ser Jaime’s.” Podrick nodded again. Brienne supposed that was rather obvious but she still wanted to say it aloud. In fact, she wanted to scream it. Or perhaps she just wanted to scream full stop. Jaime. 

“We have to protect the baby,” Podrick said and there was a ferocious tone to his voice that made Brienne blink in surprise. Perhaps Jaime had done well by her in giving her this squire who could not spar and who struggled to undo armour. He wanted to protect her baby with a fierceness that Brienne herself struggled to find, lacking in energy as she was.

“The baby comes first,” Brienne agreed. Podrick squeezed her shoulder and Brienne found herself very glad of his company.

XXX

When six months hit, things changed. They had to. The pregnancy was becoming more and more obvious by the day. Brienne’s breeches no longer fit. They had to stop in a local town to buy long, simple dresses for Brienne. It felt a lot like she was giving up her freedom when she let go of her breeches, giving up the person she was.

Of course she was not. She was not going to change just because she suddenly dressed as a woman. She had not changed in who she was when Jaime had made her feel like a woman. Perhaps motherhood would change her slightly, but she was never going to be womanly and feminine and flowery and all that nonsense, no matter how much she had tried when she was younger. She would always be steel and muscle, with a baby at her hip or not, in breeches or dresses.

However, a pregnant woman in her twenties travelling with a young squire was very suspicious. They camped more often than not, rather than risk the strange looks in inns. It was not very comfortable. In fact, as Brienne’s baby - her daughter, she was still sure - grew, it became more and more uncomfortable. Her back ached and her breasts ached and all she wanted was a feather bed to settle into.

But her honour still existed. She still had her quest, to find Sansa and Arya. She had promised Lady Catelyn, and Jaime, and she was going to uphold those promises, babe or no babe. If it was slower going than it should have been, she could not find it in herself to feel guilty. Though her vows to Lady Catelyn and Jaime were important, the vows she had made to herself and to her daughter were more so.

Her daughter was already without a father, without a name. Brienne would not risk travelling too far in one day or eating something suspect or even sparring with Podrick when it could potentially harm her daughter. 

Brienne had constant nightmares of childbirth, egged on by the fact that both Brienne and Jaime’s mothers had died in the birthing bed. She knew that there was no real genetic connection but it still scared her and she was constantly weighing up options for their safety (an inn was better for her body, but the risk of being spotted was too high; sparring would keep her body in shape to protect them, but the danger to the babe was too much for Brienne to bear).

As her baby grew, Brienne became more and more confident in the decisions she made. She felt as though she were a mother already. She couldn’t wait to hold her baby in her arms. She hoped that, when she did, she would be able to stop thinking about Jaime and how he should be there with them too.


	2. Chapter 2

Another month passed and Brienne found herself exhausted. The days spent on horses were shorter. Brienne had to let Podrick find the food most mornings and nights because her body simply did not want her to do any more than she did already. It was a terrible inconvenience because it meant they were making very slow progress towards the Vale, where Sansa’s aunt lived and where they hoped to find Sansa herself.

Podrick skated into the clearing one morning, without any food. Brienne felt her stomach protest. The baby began to kick and Brienne lay a hand on her stomach. “It’s Arya Stark,” Podrick panted.

They gathered their things quickly. Podrick had seen the Hound. He was sure it was the Hound, a renowned fighter, and Podrick saw the girl beside him and he - in his own words - ‘just got this feeling’, so he approached and overheard a conversation and realised who it was. “They’re eating now,” Podrick muttered as they got closer. Brienne had trained him to step where she stepped so as not to be caught and she was pleased she had gone to the effort. The Hound and the girl with him did not notice them until they were very close to their fire.

Forgive me, daughter.

Brienne took her hand from her stomach and pulled Jaime’s sword from her waist. “Fuck,” the Hound swore and he grabbed Arya by the collar of her shirt, ignoring her squeals of protest. Brienne narrowed her eyes and swung her sword. The Hound dropped the girl and pulled out his own greatsword.

Daughter, Jaime, forgive me.

“The baby, my lady!” Podrick shouted behind her. Brienne ignored him, steeling herself. Lady Catelyn’s daughter was in front of her. She could not allow her to get away.

“I am the sworn sword of Lady Catelyn Stark,” Brienne said as severely as she could. Neither she nor the Hound had attacked. Brienne saw Arya watching with interest in the corner of her eye. “I swore an oath before my lady died to protect her daughters and I will put my life on the line to do that.” Brienne knew that the Hound knew that she was pregnant. She could see it in his eyes. “Do not make me fight,” Brienne said and she hated herself for begging. “You abandoned a cruel king. I do not believe you are cruel, Ser.”

The Hound scoffed, looking between her stomach and Arya. “You don’t know me at all, woman,” he growled, sheathing his sword. Brienne let out a gasping sigh of relief, putting her own sword back in its rightful place by her waist. Her heart was racing. Her daughter was still kicking. “What the hell are you doing trying to fight while carrying a babe?”

“Do you know where Sansa is?” Arya interrupted before Brienne could explain more to the Hound about her vow, about what it meant, and before she could thank him. Arya was right by Brienne’s side, very quickly. Brienne noticed she had her own sword at her waist, a dainty thing but sharp-looking, real-looking.

Brienne shook her head at the young girl. “We’re heading to the Vale.”

Arya nodded sagely. “To Aunt Lysa. That was where we were going too, to get me a ransom. You have to let me help,” she demanded. Brienne smiled softly. She saw so much of herself in this girl already. Brienne had no plans to let Arya Stark out of her sight for quite a while. She agreed to allow Arya to help them find her sister and then Brienne would take both of them somewhere safe, along with her baby.

“What will you do?” Podrick asked the Hound, his voice clear and confident. Brienne smiled proudly at him. The Hound grunted.

“Any fucker’ll be able to kill you lot. I’ll stay with you, until the babe is born.”

Brienne would never tell Podrick but she found the Hound’s promise more comforting than Podrick’s presence. It was true protection for her and her baby until she was born. Brienne cried then and there and hated herself for the impression the Hound was receiving of her. It was a miracle he had deemed her to be enough of a threat to give up Arya. Perhaps he had just had a ‘feeling’, like Podrick.

Arya gave her a dirty look for crying and Podrick shouted at her for it, explaining that she was pregnant and that happened to pregnant woman. Arya apologised and then insulted Podrick and the Hound snapped at them and Brienne realised she might have a chance to be a mother before her baby was born after all.

XXX

It was easier then. Inns took them as a travelling family, with two children and a babe on the way. Brienne shared a room with Arya, who demanded stories of her mother and brother. Brienne told her all she knew. Tears came to Brienne’s eyes as she discussed Catelyn’s death. She found tears too in Arya’s eyes.

“Pregnancy,” Arya commented, nodding at Brienne’s stomach. Brienne shook her head.

“Your mother saved my life and trusted me more than anyone else has before. She was a wonderful woman and I regret that I was not there to save her before she died,” Brienne said truthfully, though her tears marred some of the words. Arya nodded and she leaned her head on Brienne’s shoulder. Brienne stroked her hair, wishing that Catelyn was there then. She would be able to help Brienne with the baby.

Arya fell asleep eventually, softly snoring. Brienne smiled and rearranged her on the bed, lying down next to her and considering the fact that they had found her. It had been a gift from the Gods. Perhaps a reward for Brienne’s struggles. Or perhaps it was just a coincidence. Brienne didn’t care. They had found her and they were keeping her.

XXX

Brienne woke in the night. She had always been a light sleeper. Arya was moaning. Blinking to clear her mind, Brienne glanced around the room and found Arya shaking in her sleep. She was making undecipherable noises but Brienne could see the fear reflected on her face. Brienne sighed as she maneuvered herself and her huge - and growing - baby bump into a seated position.

“Arya,” she murmured, shaking the shoulder closest to her. The last thing she wanted was to startle Arya and have her attack. They had not been sharing a bed for long enough that Arya would remember Brienne’s presence immediately.

Rather than attacking, Arya flinched away, jumping out of bed, the second her eyes flicked open. “Arya, Arya,” Brienne said, watching her scan the room like a startled animal. Her eyes settled on Brienne, who then watched as they filled with tears. Arya crumpled to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking forward and backward. Brienne shuffled over to the other side of the bed and stood, before squatting and wrapping her arms around the young girl. Arya pressed her head into Brienne’s shoulder and began to truly sob.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Brienne whispered, stroking Arya’s short, rough hair. “You can get through this, Arya.”

When Arya had calmed enough to speak, she explained the dream to Brienne: rats eating chests and a boy she once loved and her brother’s direwolf being beheaded and her mother telling her all the things she had ever done wrong. Brienne asked how often she has them.

Arya shrugged. “Maybe twice a week this bad. But I never sleep without seeing their faces.”

Brienne knew there was nothing she could say. Nothing she could say would make the faces disappear or the experiences go away. But she could offer something else. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to start sparring, until you are strong enough and skilled enough to keep away any monsters in the day. Perhaps then the monsters in the night will see you are too strong to be bothered.”

Arya looked up at her with big eyes, reminding Brienne that she was only ten-and-three. “With you?” she asked, glancing at Brienne’s baby bump. Brienne shook her head.

“With Podrick and maybe with the Hound if we can convince him.”

“Okay,” she agreed, leaning her head on Brienne’s shoulder again. Brienne let out a sigh and pressed a butterfly kiss to Arya’s head.

XXX

“That was good, Arya,” Brienne commented as she stepped close to Brienne and took the skein of water offered. Podrick approached next. “You too, Pod.” They were rather evenly matched, what with the constant drilling Podrick had been having for months and the natural skill of Arya, along with the water dancing lessons she had received in King’s Landing. It was quite interesting to watch.

Sandor - the Hound - had started making comments on their form too, which was helpful, because Brienne was very tired. After Arya had managed to get back to sleep the night before, Brienne’s daughter had started kicking up a storm and her back had started to ache and she just had not been able to sleep again. She supposed it was good practice for when the baby arrived.

“Brienne,” Arya said. Her tone was inquisitive. Brienne felt dread begin to burn in her stomach. “Who is the baby’s father?”

“Why do you need to know?” Podrick said immediately. Brienne lay her hand on her bump. She knew that both Sandor and Arya would be averse to the idea of Brienne carrying Jaime Lannister’s baby. She almost wanted to lie and say it belonged to someone else. But she would not do that to Jaime or to the baby.

They sat down on a log that had been felled. Brienne stretched her hands out on her knees and then moved her left hand to her bump. She swallowed harshly. “Just tell us, will you,” Sandor grumbled. Brienne blinked back tears.

“It’s Jaime Lannister’s.”

“Fuck off,” was Sandor’s immediate response. Brienne closed her eyes to the tears that pooled there. “Jaime fucking Lannister.”

“Lannister,” Arya repeated, “but you said you worked for my mother! You said you swore a vow to her and that was more important than-”

“Jaime fucking Lannister. After all fucking this you turn out to be a fucking Lannister-”

They continued to shout. Brienne started to cry, tears running down her cheeks. She was ashamed of the reaction but she knew it had more to do with the baby in her womb making her emotions go haywire. She’d heard it called baby brain. Their reactions were valid. The Lannisters had done lots of awful things to them and Brienne understood why they would be angry with her too, for lying with Jaime. But they didn’t know Jaime like she did.

“It’ll be the king’s brother,” Sandor grunted. Brienne swallowed. She had considered that many times, that her child would be half-sister of the king and princess, but had put it out of her mind. While Jaime knew nothing of the pregnancy, nor would the king or princess - or the dowager queen.

“Sister,” Brienne corrected. “It’ll be a girl.”

“What were you thinking?” Arya demanded, anger lighting up her grey eyes.

“That’s enough!” Podrick snapped, standing up and facing off to the angry pair. “Brienne doesn’t need to defend her actions to either of you. She’s seven months gone with child and we need to protect her.”

The little speech made Brienne cry even more. Stupid baby brain. Podrick had grown so much since they had left King’s Landing. “Why are you crying?” Arya groaned and Brienne felt the same towards herself.

“The baby sets my emotions off,” Brienne told her through tears. “Give me a few months and you’ll never see me cry again.”

“Not even over Jaime Lannister?” Sandor said, spitting to the side. Brienne felt irrational anger rise up in her, wishing that the whole world knew how honourable Jaime Lannister was.

“Not even over Jaime, no,” she said, closing her eyes to the memories.

XXX

Despite their anger, they stayed. Brienne had feared they would leave in the night, to get away from any sort of Lannister connection, but they stayed and watched as she grew to eight months and then protected her while they rented a house in a village in the Vale when she hit nine months.

When the pains started, a few hours ago, Arya had raced to order Podrick and Sandor to go and find the birthing woman that they had tracked down a few weeks ago and then Arya had returned to hold Brienne’s hand. No men were allowed in the birthing room so Arya had promised to stay, to help Brienne through it, even though the whole process made her feel disgusting. Those were Arya’s exact words.

“It’s gonna be okay, Brienne,” Arya assured her, stroking back the hair from her head as they waited for the birthing woman to arrive. Brienne smiled weakly at Arya, grateful for the young girl. She was so scared and the pain was so intense. 

“Arya,” Brienne panted as another pain finished. “Jaime’s mother and my mother- they- they died in the childbed. If I -”

“You won’t,” Arya said forcefully. “You won’t die, Brienne. None of us can do this without you. We need you.”

Brienne shook her head. “Arya, if I die, please, if I die, look after the babe and find- find Sansa.”

“You won’t die,” Arya said confidently. “You’re going to look after my sister and then we’re going to find Sansa.”

Brienne felt tears stream down her face at Arya’s description of the baby and she went to speak but another pain ripped through her. Why did anyone do this voluntarily? Brienne screamed and held Arya’s hand so tightly she vaguely worried she may break it. “I hate him, I hate him,” Brienne chanted, closing her eyes tightly. Why had she ever let Jaime touch her?

The birthing woman arrived soon after and Arya filled her in on what she could. They had Podrick and Sandor on boiling hot water and getting towels, despite Sandor’s insistence he was not doing anything to help. Brienne cried and cried and screamed. It seemed to go on for hours and hours, days and days.

“Nearly there, Brienne,” Arya said, repeating exactly what the kind birthing woman had said. Brienne shook her head from one side of the pillow to the other. She was so tired.

“I can’t do it,” she sobbed.

“You can,” Arya said, looking her in the eyes. “You’re the strongest woman I know. My mother knew that and I know that and the whole world is going to know that. You can do this.”

Brienne nodded, taking strength from the words. She was nearly there. She was going to have a baby. She just had to be strong for her, just for a while longer. She wanted Jaime.

The baby did come quite soon after that, the head and then the shoulders and then the rest. She came without complications but with a whirlwind of pain and tears. Brienne was still crying when they put the baby girl in her arms, wrapped in a blanket that Arya had bought at the market a week ago.

Brienne had no words. The baby was so small, so precious. She could not believe that this was the product of her and Jaime. Tears continued to stream down her face as she considered that she should be waiting for Jaime to come into the room now. Brushing her daughter’s hand with her own, Brienne revised her assessment: Jaime never would have left the room.

“She’s the only beautiful Lannister,” Arya whispered in her ear when the birthing woman was busy. Brienne let out a wet chuckle. Arya was most certainly wrong. Not only were there plenty of beautiful Lannister, but her baby was not a Lannister. They were not married and this was a bastard. Brienne shook her head.

“She will be of Tarth,” she declared. Arya nodded and pressed a kiss to the baby’s hand. The baby’s hair was very fine and very light. Brienne thought it would be her colour more than Jaime’s. The baby also had Brienne’s bright blue eyes when she blinked. Brienne hoped she would have everything else of Jaime’s or the girl would be very unfortunate indeed.

“I’m going to be the very best sister to her,” Arya promised, looking Brienne in the eyes. Brienne nodded.

“I know,” she replied. “Go and tell Podrick and Sandor that she’s here.”

The birthing woman left as the men entered. Sandor brought her some food, acknowledging the baby with a grunt. Arya fed Brienne while she continued to hold the baby. She was so tired but she never wanted this baby anywhere but in her arms. “She’s beautiful, my lady,” Podrick said and Brienne smiled softly.

“What are you going to call her?” Arya asked excitedly. Brienne blinked. She had no clue. All this time she had been sure it was a girl and now it was a girl and she had no name.

“I don’t know,” Brienne said and she felt tears come to the back of her eyes.

“What about Catelyn?” Arya suggested. A sob came out of Brienne’s throat and she nodded quickly, staring down at her daughter.

“Catelyn,” she repeated, brushing a finger over her small nose. Her eyes still streamed. Arya reached over to wipe away the tears.

“Stop being so soft,” she instructed, “or you’ll turn Cat into a soft little princess.”

Brienne chuckled. Cat could be a soft little princess if she wanted, or she could be a knight. She could be anything she wanted because Brienne was going to give her the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Cat had Jaime’s eyes. Every time Brienne looked into them she was reminded of Jaime, of the man who she had spent the night with, of the man she had protected across the continent. And she thought that it would make her sad. But it didn’t.

Cat’s eyes reminded Brienne of the good parts of Jaime, his sense of humour and the way he jumped into the bear pit. They reminded her of the way that Jaime protected her against words and against the men who had tried to rape her, the way he protected the realm when he killed Aerys.

They didn’t remind her of Cersei’s eyes or the way that Jaime had remained in King’s Landing to protect her and their bastard children. In fact, Brienne rarely thought of that at all. That was what the rest of the continent thought of Jaime, even what the rest of their little travelling group thought of Jaime. Brienne would not let that be the way he was remembered by her, nor by his daughter.

Their raggle-taggle group had been staying in the little house in the Reach, quite happily, allowing Brienne to recover, allowing Cat to begin to grow. The Hound trained with Podrick and Arya and Brienne thought that, despite his protests, he quite enjoyed doing it and it made him feel good about himself. But she wasn’t very good at reading him. He was a closed book.

Podrick and Arya were far less closed books. In fact, sometimes, Brienne had to tell them to shut up because they just would not stop talking. Arya spoke about everything, other than her family and where she had been since she left King’s Landing, but she spoke about general things all the time, sparring and the village and Cat. Arya truly loved talking about Cat and playing with Cat and claiming that Cat was as much hers as she was Brienne’s. It was very sweet.

Podrick also adored Cat, though he was more nervous with children than Arya. He was nice to Cat but he didn’t play the silly games that Arya did. And Arya used that to torment Podrick about Cat loving her more than him. Brienne considered that perhaps Arya missed the sibling rivalries that she grew up with and wanted to recreate the same thing with Podrick.

Especially because they hadn’t heard much about Sansa. They had heard about Lord Baelish’s bastard daughter. Brienne and Sandor had spoken at length about the likelihood that this Alayne Stone was in fact Sansa, though they had not discussed the possibility with Arya, who was too much of a flight risk to let her know. They did not want to tell her in case she ran off to rescue her herself, alone when Brienne and Sandor refused to leave straight away.

They did truly believe that this Alayne Stone was Sansa, but she was in the most highly-protected castle on the continent and a proper plan had to be made before they rushed in and ruined everything and potentially scuppered their chances of ever finding Sansa and securing her safety.

Brienne’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sandor calling her name. Furrowing her brows and standing immediately, she rushed to find him, Arya and Podrick joining them almost immediately, all understanding the urgency of Sandor actually using Brienne’s name and not just grunting at her.

“They’re moving her,” he said, rather out of breath. Brienne wondered how far he had run. She fiddled with the blanket holding Cat close to her and nodded.

“Right, where are we going?” she said, feeling awake for the first time since she had given birth. The past few weeks had been a sleep-deprived loveliness but this was what she had left King’s Landing, left Jaime to do. Sansa was being moved and they were going to find her.

Sandor grimaced. “She’s going to become the Bastard’s wife.”

XXX

Cat travelled easily, in a sling around Brienne’s neck. In the days that it took to organise their things and end the contract for the house, Brienne had worried about how Cat would adjust to travelling, after the first few weeks of her life had been so uneventful and smooth. The first few days were awful and she cried more than she didn’t. She never settled and Brienne found herself stopping their small group more frequently than she would have wanted to attempt to feed her and burp her and change her. Nothing seemed to work.

Finally, after almost a week of travelling to Winterfell, where they were losing ground on Sansa every time they had to stop, Cat adjusted and became just another one of their silent travelling crew.

Even Arya had quieted down, the gravity of what was going to happen to her sister overwhelming. Brienne caught her with a contemplative look on her face more often than not and she wondered when the last time Arya had a conversation with her sister was, and what it was about. Goodbyes were often not planned, not known, and Brienne had a feeling that Arya regretted hers, whatever it was.

Brienne felt her breasts begin to leak and called their procession to a halt. Guiding her horse away from the road, Brienne found a shady tree and slid down from the horse beneath it, settling down so that her back leaned against it. Sandor and Podrick walked away, likely to piss and perhaps find some food, which Brienne was grateful for. She was not sure how she felt about them seeing her breasts, though she knew they had at times. She was not sure how Jaime would have felt about it. 

Cat was easy to feed now. The first few days had been painful, uncomfortable and more difficult than Brienne had anticipated. She had heard that it was natural and beautiful. It had been neither of those things, until she and her baby had got used to it.

“That’s disgusting,” Arya said, plonking down beside her, a long stick in her hands. Brienne chuckled. 

“It’s helping her grow.” Arya only grunted.

“My mother never fed us at her own breast. There was always a nursemaid. I remember Rickon’s.”

Brienne smiled kindly at Arya. She never spoke about her siblings or even her mother and a casual mention like this suggested that Arya had been thinking about them a lot over the past few days, as Brienne had suspected. “I never thought I would feed my own babe.” Brienne laughed at herself. “Well, I never thought I would truly have a babe, but, if I did, I thought I would give it to a nursemaid to feed while I went out with my sword and got my body back into fighting form.”

Arya laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever have a babe, but maybe I’ll be wrong like you.”

Brienne hummed. “Maybe.” Smiling at her, Brienne said, “if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll do something equally as wonderful.”

“You find all this wonderful?” Arya said, nodding her head at the road and then at the baby. Her tone suggested that she did not. Brienne didn’t know what to say but she didn’t get to speak anyway, before Arya continued, “would you not rather be in King’s Landing with a father for your baby? You’re feeding her at the side of a road, on the way to Winterfell to fight for my sister. You could be happy with the Kingslayer.”

Brienne flinched at the mention of Jaime’s moniker. How could she explain to a girl nine years her inferior that she would not be happy with Jaime? Oh, it was nice to imagine that they would ride off together into the sunset but he had his sister to look after, to fuck. He had his son to protect and his oaths to uphold. It was not so simple.

“You love him but you don’t want to be with him,” Arya surmised. Brienne swallowed and remembered that Arya was wiser than her years. She only nodded. Arya shrugged and jumped up. “Well, then, I guess that’s okay.” Brienne didn’t know what that meant but she nodded again and Arya flew away with her stick. Trusting her to return, Brienne turned her eyes to her green-eyed daughter suckling at her breast, brushing her thumb through her golden curls. The very picture of her father.

XXX

Arya had cried at the sight of Winterfell, tears slipping down her cheeks and her breathing coming more quickly. Sandor had tugged one of the braids that Podrick had plaited into her hair and they had continued onwards. Brienne was glad that Sandor had known what to do, because she had not. Her experience with crying girls was to put them to her breast. Before Cat, Brienne had had no experience at all.

Arya practically skipped through the village attached to Winterfell, though. As they had left the Reach, they had started discussing what would happen if the villagers recognised Arya as a daughter of Winterfell, if they saw her as a saviour of the old days - or, worse, if they reported her appearance to the Boltons who had taken over.

Rather than let her hair flow loosely, Podrick had confessed to knowing how to do ladies’ braids and had shown them that he could braid Arya’s hair back into two plaits. Then, they had stopped in a village to purchase dresses for Arya to wear. And, when Winterfell had drawn close, Arya had had to start riding side-saddle. Like a lady.

She had been furious.

Every change, every new item of clothing had made her face turn red and her nostrils flare. Whenever any of them tried to reason with her, to explain why it was important and that it didn’t take away from who she was, she had snapped at them, told them she understood it and would do it for Sansa, even if she too would laugh when she saw her.

And that was that.

Sandor had got them the house, playing the doting father to Arya and Podrick, a hat firmly planted on his head to hide most of his scar. Thankfully, the landlord had had one available. They would have been far more conspicuous in an inn, where anybody visiting Winterfell would have seen them.

Brienne looked up at the sound of Cat crying in the room next door, where she was lying in the small crib that Arya and Podrick had been very excited to find at the carpenter’s. She picked Cat up and brought her close. Her cries declined as Brienne closed her eyes and sniffed the top of her head, enjoying the scent of her babyness. She’d never been so enamoured with a living creature before.

“Brienne!” Arya shouted, entering the room.

“Shush, idiot,” Podrick snapped, nodding at the baby, who started to cry again. Brienne lifted her to smell her bottom and was rewarded with the understanding of why her babe was crying. She smiled at Podrick and Arya, who were still bickering. “Sandor bought stew from the inn.” Podrick’s news was welcome. Neither Sandor nor Brienne could cook so Podrick did most of it, and even he was no professional.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Brienne said and Podrick nodded, shooting out of the room back to the kitchen.

Arya approached Brienne slowly as she lay Cat back down in her crib, the easiest position to change her in. “Brienne,” she said hesitantly. Brienne hummed while she unfastened Cat’s clothes. “Do you think Sansa will be happy to see me?”

Brienne stilled at the question. “Will you be glad to see her?” she asked.

“Of course,” Arya answered immediately. Brienne removed Cat’s offending underwear and passed it to Arya who mimed being sick as she placed it on the chest of drawers by the bed that they shared.

“Then, why would Sansa not be pleased to see you?”

Arya groaned. At Brienne’s instruction, she passed her a clean set of clothing for Cat. “Sansa and I were arguing the last time we were together.”

“You’re sisters,” Brienne said softly, putting Cat back together, “and sisters argue, or so I hear. I am sure she has not spent the time you have had apart thinking about how you last argued.”

Arya shrugged, making eyes with a gurgling Cat rather than with Brienne. “I guess.”

“I know,” Brienne said, picking Cat up and ruffling Arya’s hair. “Trust me. She will not hold this against you. You’ll have a chance to fix it. You’d better get practising what you’re going to say.”

That brightened Arya’s face, to Brienne’s relief. She really wasn’t good at any of this emotional nonsense. Arya darted out of the room, to where the smell of stew was emanating. Brienne followed with her daughter, excited for the moment that she could bring Sansa and Arya together, as she had promised Jaime.

XXX

Brienne’s hands shook. Podrick had barely been gone twenty-four hours and she couldn’t cope with the worry. Podrick had been a constant in her life since the day she had discovered that she was pregnant. Now, nearly a year later, a day without him was not only odd, but it was stressful. He cooked for them and he distracted Arya when she thought about her family. Any member of their little family would make them feel like this at their loss, but it was Podrick who was gone, so it felt all the worse.

Brienne had not wanted him to go. When he had come to them and put together his case for being the one to infiltrate Winterfell and find Sansa, Brienne had dismissed it instantly. Sandor had gruffly warned that it was too dangerous.

But then he had pointed out that Arya was still too recognisable, even in a dress and braids. Brienne was the tallest woman in the Seven Kingdoms and could also never leave Cat for so long without some way of feeding her. And Sandor was hugely tall, broad and had a very recognisable scar.

It had to be Podrick.

Brienne was crying as he left. He had cuddled Cat and said goodbye with a kiss to her head and her little pouty lips - Lannister pouty lips - had curled into the most beautiful, wonderfully-timed smile.

So, bestowed with Cat’s very first smile, Arya’s jealous/nervous anger and Brienne’s tears, Podrick had left to infiltrate Winterfell, despite all of the scary stories they had heard of what went on inside.

“If we heard anything, that would be bad,” Arya said plainly, interrupting Brienne’s memory of Cat smiling. She nodded at Arya. “So, it’s good that we’ve not heard anything. It means he is inside and safe.”

“Safe,” Brienne repeated, a look of horror on her face as she looked at Arya. Arya immediately shrunk back and Brienne regretted her hasty reaction. “I’m sorry. I know what you meant.”

Arya nodded. “He’s certainly safer than Sansa.”

“I know, Arya,” Brienne said with a sigh.

“And she’s been in there for a month.”

Brienne nodded, biting her lip. They had travelled slowly, then had spent a week deciding on the best, safest plan. And Sansa had arrived far earlier than they had expected. All in all, lots of things had gone wrong and Sansa had already been with Ramsay - the Bastard - for a month, his wife for a whole three weeks.

Brienne felt utterly useless. She had sworn to Lady Catelyn that she would protect her daughters. She had sworn to Jaime that she would find them. And what was she doing? She’d sparred with Sandor while they had been travelling, but they couldn’t very often for fear of attracting onlookers. The last thing they needed was somebody to report to anybody who or where they were.

And in Winterfell village, even Sandor would have been looked upon oddly for sparring. The only men who sparred regularly were professional soldiers, men who worked as soldiers or guards for a living. Not men who claimed to be farmers from out of town. And certainly not women or girls.

All that meant that there was a definite anxious energy in the house, which affected Cat and made her more prone to crying than usual, although that could also have something to do with her teething.

Arya poked her finger into Cat’s mouth and the babe sucked on it, stopping crying for a moment. Brienne smiled and Arya grinned up at her. “Sansa is going to love Cat,” Arya said proudly, as though Cat were her daughter to show off. “She always loved playing babies when we were little. She always pretended that the father was Joffrey and he was off being important and being the king, while she stayed at home and played queen.” Arya’s voice took on a bitter tone. “She was too good for him, anyway.”

Brienne nodded. “Of course she was.”

“We’ll find her a better husband than Ramsay. She’ll want to get married,” Arya said with a nod of certainty. “So we’ll find her a good husband, someone who will be kind to her.”

Brienne smiled. “Yes. A good husband.”

“And one for you too,” Arya added. Brienne practically choked. Arya removed her finger from Cat’s mouth and she started to cry again, fat tears leaking from her eyes.

“Arya, I don’t need a husband.” Never mind the fact that she was not an attractive prospect before she had a bastard, never mind now.

Arya rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.”

XXX

Podrick returned within a week, to Brienne’s utter delight. When he came into the house, Brienne felt as though he had been gone for years, felt as though he were her child returning from war. She bestowed a big kiss to his head and then Cat tried to do the same, with another of her smiles, which were increasingly frequent.

“Come in, come in,” Brienne beckoned, sitting him down on a chair in the living room, in front of the fire, hiding the embroidery that she had been doing to pass the time. It was terrible and she hated it but she hated being bored more. “What happened? Did you see her?” she asked hurriedly.

“Where are the others?” Podrick asked. He looked older somehow, though not harmed in any way, she was glad to see.

Brienne waved as if to dismiss his words. “Sandor rode Arya out of the village to spar with her. She was starting to irritate us.” Podrick laughed at that but Brienne sensed that he would have liked to see the girl that he considered to be like a sister. “Sansa,” Brienne pressed.

Podrick shook his head and the light in his eyes dimmed. “I hardly saw her. She appeared at dinner one night, sat beside Ramsay. He treated her like a dog and no one in the room said anything. Other than that, she stayed in his rooms.” Brienne swallowed, wishing they had acted earlier. “I heard things from the soldiers.” His tone was hesitant.

“Go on,” Brienne encouraged, dread building in her stomach.

Podrick grimaced. “They say that she screams every night. They say that he brags about raping her, brags about her becoming pregnant with his child. They say he whips her.” The haunted tone in Podrick’s voice made Brienne regret ever letting him take this on. She shook her head, ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes.

“We’re going to save her,” Brienne said and Podrick nodded.

“Of course we are.”

XXX

When Sandor and Arya returned, they were both happy to see Podrick. Arya flung her arms around his neck and he danced with her around the room. Even Sandor cracked a smile at the sight of his safe return.

“There’s a man there,” Podrick said, ten minutes later when he had answered all of Arya’s desperate questions about people at Winterfell, who remained and who did not. With each answer, she was growing more and more desolate. Arya’s ears twitched at Podrick’s statement.

“What man?” she demanded.

“They called him Reek but the soldiers said that his real name was Theon Greyjoy but Ramsay’s torture had turned him into a different creature.”

Brienne watched Arya’s face as it blanched. She had heard of Theon Greyjoy, knew that he was the murderer of Arya’s brothers, despite having grown up together. Arya was silent for a moment. Sandor glanced at her and then away. Podrick only shook, his leg bouncing. Looking at him like this, Brienne wondered how he safely integrated himself in Winterfell. He was such an obvious spy.

“Theon Greyjoy is an evil man,” Arya said quietly. Brienne kept his eyes on her, worry inflating inside her. “Theon is evil but I think he might be the key to getting Sansa out. We grew up together and I’m sure he could-” Arya cut herself off, her eyes falling to her lap. “I just think that, if there’s no other way to get her out and Theon is close to Ramsay, we could use him.”

“Seems like a risk,” Sandor grunted.

“It’s more of a risk to leave Sansa in there,” Arya said. Podrick nodded once, firmly. Brienne swallowed. She wasn’t sure what to do. This was a risk. This could mean trading Podrick for Sansa. It could mean Podrick’s painful death, or his turning into a creature like Reek.

But Sansa was at risk. She’d been there for a month and she was alone. And Podrick was offering.

“This is my choice,” Podrick said, his voice mature and louder than it had been. Brienne worried her bottom lip. Podrick was not her child. He was her squire but she had no control over his actions. And he was doing this for her, for his loyalty to her - and for his loyalty to Tyrion’s wife. Brienne’s head shook slightly as she nodded, as though her heart wanted her to say no while her brain was saying yes.

Sandor was staring at her, not quite judging her but not pleased either. This was a huge risk but, Brienne thought, looking out in the direction of Winterfell, Sansa deserved the risk being taken.

Podrick declared that he would leave in the morning, after some sleep. Brienne nodded and offered to make him some food. Despite general consensus that Brienne was an awful cook, all three of them agreed that they would love some of her food. Brienne threw herself into making the food, not because she thought she could make something spectacular, but because if she stopped for a second, she would remember that they were consciously sending Podrick into a castle where he had reported torture, rape and murder. This wasn’t a reconnaissance mission - this was a rescue mission.

Sitting at the table, Brienne watched her family’s interactions. Arya held a giggling Cat while Podrick made her laugh. Sandor only watched them, his eyes darting between his food and Podrick. Brienne didn’t have anything to say to any of them. She was only happy to have one final night of this, before there would be worry - and then, with hope and the Gods on their side, a mad dash to get to the Wall, where Jon Snow would welcome them and keep them safe from Ramsay’s wrath. With hope.

XXX

When Podrick left in the morning, it was still dark, but all three of them dragged themselves out of bed. Brienne hugged him tightly. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her throat clogging with tears. Podrick nodded, clearing his throat.

Sandor muttered something to Podrick and their quiet conversation went on for a while. From what Brienne could hear - which wasn’t much - Sandor was giving Podrick advice for what to do when he got in there.

And then Arya stepped up, passing Cat into Brienne’s arms so that she could hug Podrick properly. “Theon was my brother once,” she said seriously, “and you’re my brother now. Save my sister.”

Podrick clung to Arya and she to him as they said goodbye. When they pulled away, Arya pressed the palm of her hands to her eyes. Brienne didn’t comment on her tears.

With one last wave and a smile to Cat, Podrick left and they got on with their lives, as best they could.

XXX

Sansa screamed as she fell, free-falling through bitterly cold air, one hand clasped in Theon’s, one in Pod’s. Panic flooded her as she considered how far the ground was - and then she hit it with a great thud that she couldn’t believe came from her. Theon moaned and Podrick pulled them up one by one.

“Hurry,” he whispered. Sansa nodded, grabbing Theon’s hand again. They half-ran, half-walked, entering the godswood almost immediately. It provided them cover but Sansa’s heart raced as she considered how soon Ramsay would know that she was gone.

Stannis had arrived, had brought his soldiers to fight Ramsay. The second they had gone, Podrick had acted, the small squire of Tyrion’s that Sansa had dismissed as harmless, useless almost. He had saved her life.

Sansa heard a horse neigh and she looked, shocked, at Podrick, who grinned at her. She had expected to have to run for hours, to travel with little sleep or food until they eventually reached Jon at the Wall. The thought of Jon gave Sansa even more energy, darting around trees, clinging to Theon, following Podrick.

“Come on,” Podrick said, not too loudly but loudly enough that Sansa could hear the excitement in his voice. She furrowed her brow and wondered who had brought the horses. Podrick had been in Winterfell for two weeks. That meant he wasn’t working alone. For a brief moment, Sansa’s insides lit up at the thought that perhaps Tyrion had come to rescue her - had forgiven her for abandoning him and had found out she was in danger and, so, had sent Podrick to save her and he was waiting, now, for her. Her heart sped up.

The horses came into sight, five of them, three mounted. Sansa froze as she came close enough to see the riders. The Hound - Sandor Clegane - was sitting there. She met his eyes and half his mouth twitched into a smile. And then his eyes twitched to his right, where Sansa saw a short girl, braided hair and wearing a dress, sitting on a smaller horse.

“Arya,” Sansa breathed, a smile transforming her face. Arya smiled too and she looked older, so much older than Sansa remembered her. Was this a dream?

“We don’t have time for this,” the final rider snapped. Sansa turned her eyes. At first she thought the rider might have been a man - she was certainly tall and broad enough - but it was a woman, a blonde, homely woman with a baby strapped to her chest.

“Sansa can ride with me,” Arya said quickly. “Theon can take the other horse.” The woman nodded and Sandor grunted. Arya brought her horse forward and Sansa mounted it swiftly. She wondered if Ramsay had noticed she was gone yet. Sansa wrapped her arms around Arya’s waist and leaned her head against her shoulder, rubbing her cheek against Arya’s dress.

They rode off quickly, Sandor leading them and Podrick at the tail. The pace was quick and Sansa remembered what it was to have wind in her hair, to have the cold on her skin. She loved horses, always had, and now she was on one, on her way to her brother, with her sister sitting before her.

This was more than she could ever have imagined. She never imagined she would see Arya again, but here she was. “I love you,” Sansa whispered in Arya’s ear, suddenly aware that that had been what she had wanted to say. All this time, remembering their arguments, she had wanted to tell her sister that she loved her.

Arya could not take her hands from the horse’s reins, but she leaned her head back against Sansa’s and said, “I love you too, Sansa.” And it was enough that Sansa’s eyes welled up. Riding away from Winterfell, she had come home.


	4. Chapter 4

The ride for the Wall was a hard slog. They camped as little as they could, well aware that Ramsay would have men chasing them, even if he was not coming himself. They had been fortunate, had got away before they were known to be gone. It gave them a large head start.

The first night, Brienne had set up the tent and had left Cat with Sansa and Arya in the tent the three of them would share, Theon, Podrick and Sandor in the other. She had gone to fetch some water for herself and the girls. She always found breastfeeding slightly easier when she had just drunk a load of water. She thought it might have been a subconscious thing.

When she returned to the tent, she paused to listen to what was being said. Sansa was crying, that much was obvious, but she was speaking, quietly, explaining what had been done to her. Brienne’s eyes fluttered shut in horror, her hold on the water skeins tightening so that she wouldn’t drop them.

They had taken too long. They had known that Sansa had been put through these terrible things but to hear them coming from the young girl’s mouth was horrifying, more so than the haunted look in Podrick’s eyes when he had informed them. Brienne had tried to shield Arya from the full truth of that, but here was Sansa telling her everything. Brienne dreaded to think how Arya would respond. Wishing she had her daughter with her to comfort her, Brienne closed her eyes and entered the tent.

“Did you know about this?” Arya demanded immediately, hardly giving Brienne the time to sit down and scoop her daughter into her arms.

“Arya,” Brienne sighed. She glanced at Sansa, who had tears streaming down her cheeks. Arya’s cheeks were wet too, though she was stubbornly wiping that away with the back of her hands. “I don’t think your anger is helping your sister. She’s away from Ramsay now.”

Even the name made Sansa flinch. Arya scowled. “She’s away from Ramsay but not from Theon.”

Brienne didn’t have a chance to say anything because Sansa cried, “Theon saved me! He found Podrick and they got me out!”

“Theon could have saved you weeks ago,” Arya said harshly. “He was our brother. If it wasn’t bad enough that he killed Bran and Rickon, he let you get tortured and raped without doing anything to save you!”

“He didn’t!”

“He did!”

“No! I mean he didn’t kill Bran and Rickon.”

Brienne watched Arya’s face clear of anger and take on confusion as though it happened at half-speed, as she took in what Sansa had said. “What do you mean?” she eventually said.

Sansa swallowed and shifted, tucking her knees up under her chin. “Bran and Rickon escaped. Theon killed two other boys instead and pretended they were Bran and Rickon.”

“Bran and Rickon are alive?” Arya asked, her small voice full of hope. Brienne couldn’t help but think of the mothers of the two other boys, killed for a man’s pretence to ensure power. Them being peasants did not make them less loved nor less important. If anyone took Brienne’s daughter and killed her for the sake of saving a girl who was not a bastard, it would be just as evil as killing the highborn, two-parented girl. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Sansa said and Brienne watched her eyes pool again. “They’ve not been seen since they left.”

“So they could be dead,” Arya stated matter-of-factly. Sansa flinched back as though she had been struck.

“Arya,” she said, her whole face creasing with the pain of her sister’s statement.

“That’s enough,” Brienne said finally. “We don’t know what has happened to Bran and Rickon. I came to find you two so that you would be safe but now I want you to be happy too, so I won’t have you arguing. You’ve not seen each other in years and this is how you want your relationship to be? I know for certain that you don’t want that, Arya.”

Arya had the good sense to look chastened. Cat giggled, drawing the attention to her. When Brienne looked down, her beautiful daughter looked up at her, her green eyes alight with laughter.

“Can I hold her?” Sansa asked tentatively. Arya nodded, as though Cat was her toy to share, and took her from Brienne’s knee, giving her to Sansa with care. Cat stared at Sansa as though she were a wonder, something to discover. She poked her pudgy fingers into her face and Sansa looked up at them and smiled.

“She’s our sister too,” Arya told Sansa, allowing Cat to take one of her fingers in her palm. Brienne’s heart warmed and Sansa smiled, stroking Cat’s golden hair back from her face.

XXX

Theon’s leaving had upset Sansa, although it had not upset Arya, so the camp had been subdued for a few days, not wanted to say anything that would make Sansa cry again or make Arya remind her sister of all the terrible things about Theon, as she had done a few more times since they had made up.

Brienne had basically given up on making them stop arguing. She had not had a sister - not one who had lived to see a year anyway - so she didn’t know how it worked. Apparently, there was a lot of arguing and a lot of giggling. 

Shifting Cat on her front, Brienne tried to stretch her back. Carrying Cat like this, as she had from the Eyrie to Winterfell, was becoming more and more difficult. She was five months old now and being strapped to her mother’s chest was not so simple. She did not just sleep. She wriggled and looked around and she was so much more heavy. It was quite hard work for Brienne.

“Cat, calm down,” Brienne said to her daughter who only stared blankly up at her and reached up for Brienne’s face. Sighing, Brienne decided to stop and feed her. Perhaps with some food in her stomach, she would settle easier - maybe even sleep.

She called them all to a halt. None of them complained. They knew that this was just the way of things. While Sandor and Podrick disappeared to fill up their water skeins as they always did, Arya sat down beside Brienne and watched her feed Cat with morbid curiosity.

“I could hold Cat for the next bit if you would like, Brienne,” Sansa said from her standing position in front of them. Brienne and Arya looked up at the same time. Arya had offered once, a long time ago when Cat had still been tiny, and Brienne had not wanted her out of her arms. But her back was aching and they would move faster if Brienne could ride for longer. Provided Sansa could look after her properly. And Brienne did think she could.

Brienne nodded. “That would be fantastic, Sansa.”

“I could hold her after that!” Arya offered enthusiastically. Brienne nodded, bumping her shoulder against Arya’s. Perhaps if they all had a turn with Cat, they would make time better and reach the Wall faster.

They started moving soon afterwards. Cat was sleepier now that she had been fed and she was practically asleep as Brienne strapped her to Sansa’s chest. Kissing her on her head, Brienne retreated to her horse before she could change her mind.

Riding was easier without Cat there, though Brienne felt guilty saying it. She thought of Jaime and whether he would ride with Cat strapped to his front. She thought he would. He would be an amazing dad. Brienne looked down at her horse’s brown hair and forced the tears that pooled in her eyes at the thought of what she was taking from Jaime. She knew that when she saw him again - if she ever saw him again - he would be angry, furious for not telling her that he had a child.

But Brienne knew that it made sense. She knew that Cersei was dangerous and jealous and she could easily have killed both Brienne and Cat. Sansa had told them stories, too, and they made Brienne all the more sure that she had made the right choice.

And Cat had a family, even if she did not have a father. She would never have believed how kind these people - her family - would have been to her. All four of them loved Cat, even Sandor, who would never admit it. They all looked after her, prioritised her, and that was family in Brienne’s eyes.

XXX

They camped a few nights later, in a clearing in a forest, setting up the tents before sitting down to eat what Sandor and Arya had snared in the woods. Brienne ate and then fed Cat and they all stayed while she did, which made Brienne feel safe. She had had dreams where she was ambushed while feeding Cat and she couldn’t protect her. After she’d told Podrick about them, somebody always stayed by her while she was feeding Cat.

Sansa was stroking Cat’s hair idly when she asked, “Who is Cat’s father?” Brienne froze. Arya snorted. Podrick cleared his throat. Sansa seemed suddenly a bit wary of the answer. Brienne thought that Sansa had asked what she considered to be an innocent question.

Swallowing, Brienne knew that Sansa deserved an answer, as much as Arya and the others had. “Jaime Lannister,” she answered honestly, her voice cracking. She very rarely said Jaime’s name aloud, not because it was too painful, but because she knew that her friends did not like him, believed him to be a dishonourable man, and did not like the reminder that the baby they loved was half-Lannister.

Sansa’s face didn’t change. Brienne had noticed that her emotions weren’t often clear on her face. She rarely smiled, rarely scowled. Most of the time, her face was a painted mask. Whether it was painted by Ramsay or by Sansa herself, Brienne did not know.

“Did he rape you?”

It was a question that Brienne should have foreseen, another heart-breaking reminder that they had been too late to save Sansa from Ramsay’s horrors. She shook her head, remembering the night she had shared with Jaime. “I am in love with him.”

Sansa only blinked. “We can’t choose who we love,” she said.

Smiling, Brienne said, “no. We cannot.”

But Brienne would choose Jaime every time if she could.

Just as Brienne thought that the conversation was over, Sansa opened her mouth to begin talking. She spoke for a long time, through Brienne feeding Cat. She told them the full story of her first betrothed, who she called Jaime’s son. She took them through her father’s death, the humiliating tactics of Joffrey to make her submit, Tyrion Lannister saving her, being forced to marry Tyrion and share his bed, though innocently, and being ‘saved’ by Littlefinger, only to be sold again in marriage to a far worse man. She told them of the dreams she had of Tyrion coming to save her, of him taking her away to wherever he was and keeping her safe.

“And then Podrick and Theon saved me, and then you all did too,” Sansa said and there were actual tears in her throat. Brienne could not keep them from her face either. Though Sansa had been addressing Brienne, she knew that every one of them was listening to her. Brienne doubted that any of them were dry-eyed.

“Arya, will you hold Cat for a moment?” Brienne murmured to the girl sitting next to her, her cheeks wet. Arya nodded hastily and took Cat. Brienne stroked her hair. She stood and watched Sansa’s face twitch with confusion.

Kneeling before her, Brienne said, “Lady Sansa, I offer you my services. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

Brienne watched anxiously as Sansa reacted slowly, glancing at her sister and then speaking finally, “And I vow that you will always have a place in my heart and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor, nor risk the love and life of your daughter. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise.”

And Brienne arose, feeling renewed and purposeful and more honourable than she had since she had left Lady Catelyn with Jaime.

XXX

The Wall was a haunting sight. It seemed to get no closer even as they increased their speeds. Sansa and Arya both knew that they would find Jon at the other end. It was sweet to see their hurry to be reunited with another sibling. Brienne supposed that the feeling was addictive, after being reunited with one.

The Wall suddenly grew much taller, suddenly became close enough to see little specks of men at the top, on watch. Arya told them that the men would blow a horn to announce their arrival. She told them as much as she could, every night until they arrived, stories her uncle had told her, to placate her need to be a soldier like her older brothers.

Brienne could not hear the trumpet sounding, but she figured that it did, because they were met at the entrance by three men, none of whom were Arya and Sansa’s brother.

A shaggy-haired man led the three and said, “Who are you?”

It was not a glowing welcome but Sansa didn’t care. She took control of the situation immediately. “We are Sansa and Arya Stark and we are here to see the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.”

“That’s me,” the shaggy-haired man said, his voice gruff. Brienne felt anxiety rise in her stomach. She shifted Cat against her shoulder, glad she was sleeping, but eager to get her inside, to some warmth. “But I assume you want Lord Snow.” Brienne heard Sansa’s shuddering exhalation of breath. “You should come with me.”

They followed the men through the dark tunnel. Brienne cradled Cat’s head closer to her, conscious of what may be lurking in the shadows. The light crept in at the end of the tunnel and Arya’s pace increased. Brienne reached for Arya’s shoulder to squeeze it. She could hardly see any of Arya’s face but for a slight smile.

The other end of the tunnel showed them a courtyard, mainly made of dark wood, covered in snow and hanging with icicles. The men of the Night’s Watch were few and far between and generally found under the ramparts, in big black cloaks like the shaggy-haired man and the others who had greeted them. There were more men who did not wear the cloaks, who wore other clothes. A few of the latter stood in the corner, by a door, as though they were guarding it.

“You stay here,” one of the men who had accompanied the so-called Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch grunted, before disappearing into the room that was guarded by the men.

Brienne watched the Stark sisters as they kept their eyes on the closed door. Arya bounced from foot to foot, her tongue darting in and out of her mouth. Sansa, on the other hand, stood so still that Brienne was quite worried that she wasn’t breathing. She knew that this was a bigger issue for Sansa than Arya. Sansa was worried that Jon would hate her for the way he treated her in the past, whereas Arya was entirely expecting her brother’s love.

When the door creaked open, Sansa’s eyes fell to the floor but Arya’s widened. Jon was not the first man to exit - or, rather, Brienne assumed that the gigantic ginger man was not one of the Starks. He was easily taller than Brienne and that was truly a first. Even Sandor was only an inch taller than her and that was not clear until they stood beside one another.

From behind the fearsome man came a shorter man, far shorter, possibly shorter than Sansa. He had dark hair and a brooding look that Brienne recognised from Arya’s moody spells. This was Jon Snow.

“Jon!” Arya cried, her exuberance bursting from her. Brienne watched Jon, saw the exact moment that he saw his sister and his brain processed who she was. She saw his lips mouth her name and then suddenly they were both together. He was picking her up and spinning her around and Brienne saw the glistening on Arya’s cheeks. She felt her own throat close up.

“What are you doing here?” Jon asked, his voice breathless. Brienne glanced at Sansa who was watching the reunion with her own tears on her cheeks. Jon looked up from Arya’s face and saw Sansa. His whole faced dropped, his lips parting and his dark brows furrowing towards eyes. “Sansa.”

A sob escaped from Sansa’s throat. She didn’t move but Jon did. He took his arms from Arya’s shoulders and moved past her. She turned to watch. Brienne’s heart seemed to rise in her chest, in anticipation of something terrible. She needn’t have worried. The second Jon reached her, he took his sister in his arms and hugged her tightly, her head sinking into his shoulder as she sobbed.

XXX


	5. Chapter 5

Brienne had been looking forward to the night alone, nights in which she would sleep in her bed alone. They had brought a cot in for Cat, to sleep in a bed separate from her mother and Brienne was truly anticipating the space with gladness. That was, until she heard the timid knock on the door, followed by a loud bang, on the first night at the Night’s Watch.

She had welcomed Arya and Sansa in. She had never thought that they would abandon her entirely when they were reunited with Jon but she had not expected them to still want to spend all of their time with her. It was the first time that Brienne had felt truly chosen and, so, she put them to sleep in her bed and, rather than stretching out, she lay on her side at the edge of the mattress, pleased if uncomfortable.

So, her nights were rarely peaceful. Most nights, Sansa woke up panting and Brienne woke up immediately, attuned to the sounds of panic because of Cat’s teething. Arya would soon wake up too and they would sit together and tell nice stories until they were all sleepy enough - and peaceful enough - to sleep again.

Brienne didn’t mind the lack of peace. She had been thinking of the ability to train all day and actually use her sword again and get her body back into shape since they had Sansa safely with them. It was not to be.

Not only were they told by Jon that they would have to leave soon, as he was not the Lord Commander any longer, but there was a man who constantly tormented Brienne and had her fleeing from the training yard at his appearance.

His name was Tormund and he was a wildling. He was huge, practically a giant, even to Brienne, and he was relentless in his approach to Brienne. When they’d first met, Brienne had been pleased that he was so eager to duel with her. He was good and Brienne enjoyed duelling with people who were better than her and learning. She had learned so much from Sandor, for example. And most of the men in the Night’s Watch weren’t willing to fight her, at least at first. But Tormund was. So she’d been happy to have someone to fight.

That is, until he started to ask personal questions. And ask for personal favours. And the day he had arrived at her chambers, she had had to shoo him away before Sansa and Arya caught on to what was happening. The last thing she needed was Arya getting protective over her and trying to fight Tormund, or Sansa mentioning Tormund’s unwanted advances to Jon and causing friction there. None of that was worth it, so Brienne sent him away, quietly.

The next morning in the training yard, she showed him how furious she was. But even that seemed to spur him on rather than make him realise that he was acting dishonourably.

So, Brienne had wanted peace in the nights. There was never peace in the day, so she wanted peace by night. As much as she loved Cat, and Arya and Sansa, that was not what she got.

And she was so tired. So, so tired. She understood why women had nursemaids or had their mothers to stay when they had just given birth. Cat was older now but she seemed to cry more. She was teething and woke up every single night.

As much as Arya said she loved Cat and played with her in the day, letting Brienne train, she was never very helpful in the middle of the night while Brienne walked the corridors of Castle Black to get her baby back to sleep.

But so was life. Brienne could not complain. Many mothers who were alone had things far far harder than she did. She was practically living in luxury, with so many friends to support her and a steady supply of money. And, if anything went wrong, she could simply run back to her father and ask for help and she would receive it. Most girls did not have that luxury, a father who loved her no matter what, even if she came home with a baby.

Brienne wondered when life would slow down. From what Jon said, there was an army of the dead massing beyond the Wall and war would come with them whether they wanted it or not. And Sansa was already talking about winning Winterfell back for the Starks. And, when that happened, would they let Tommen keep the throne?

Now that Stannis was dead, the only other claimant for the throne was Daenerys Targaryen, in Essos, massing an army. If she came, there would be another war, more battles, more death. Brienne wondered how old Cat would be when it was all finished. For the first time in her life, she wanted the wars to be finished so that she could go home and be a mother, or stay in Winterfell with Sansa and be a mother, which was more likely to be the case until her father died and Brienne had to be the Evenstar.

What life was this for a child? Constantly travelling from place to place, living through battles and wars. Brienne wondered if Cat would ever be able to play like a normal child or if she would be an adult before her childhood was over, made that way by living through the politics and the horrors of wars. Would she be like Arya and Sansa in that way?

Brienne forced herself to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t as though Arya and Sansa were bad people; it was just that they were not children, Arya particularly. But they would make a way for Cat to be a child before she was an adult, even if that meant fighting wars and making the country a civil place, not living in peace for years. Brienne was willing to do it all, for Cat.

XXX

Brienne woke up the next morning with odd energy. She looked about the room and found it empty, none of her three room-sharers to be seen. Glancing out of the window, she found that the sun was high in the sky. She gasped shakily. It couldn’t possibly be midday. She couldn’t have possibly slept through until midday.

Stumbling from her bed and into her armour, Brienne darted out of her bedroom and along the cold corridors until she reached the outside. What she saw before her stopped her in her tracks. Sansa was holding Cat, both wrapped up warm, watching while Arya duelled with Podrick. Jon stood beside Sansa and seemed to be speaking to her. Brienne had to smile.

“Where were you this morning?” a curious, gruff voice asked from behind. Brienne recognised the voice immediately, turning to find Tormund watching her with interest.

“I overslept,” Brienne said succinctly, far more interested in watching Sansa with Cat - or Arya and Podrick’s duel - than in talking to Tormund.

“Aye, it’s tiring being alone raising children,” Tormund said with a nod over to where Cat was giggling in Sansa’s arms, one chubby hand clapping against the other while she watched Arya duel. Brienne struggled to hide her smile. Cat was her parents’ daughter.

“You sound as though you know something about it,” Brienne said. Tormund nodded his big head, his blue eyes widening.

“My woman died a year after she birthed my youngest. I’ve five and two were basically men when she died, but the others were hardly shitting by themselves,” Tormund said with a laugh. “So, I learned to raise them myself.”

Brienne actually felt impressed by something Tormund had said, for the first time in their short acquaintance. There was nothing about him that would have said doting father, but the tone of his voice suggested that his children were his pride, as Cat was Brienne’s.

“What I do know is that it’s hard work for one person. It’s easier when there’s two.” Dread grew in Brienne’s stomach. Tormund turned so that he was looking at her properly, rather than talking to her while watching the duel. “I could help you. We could raise her together.” Brienne took a step back, unsurprised by his upfront attitude. “We would be good together. We could look after each other.”

Admittedly, it was nice to hear a man who appreciated that Brienne would look after him as well as he could look after her. Briefly, Brienne wondered if Jaime would say the same, before casting that thought out of her mind. Thinking of Jaime only made her feel lonely and feeling lonely around a man offering to help her raise her child could only be bad.

“I appreciate your offer, Tormund,” Brienne began awkwardly, “but-”

“But!” Tormund cried. Brienne expected to see anger in his eyes but she found only sadness. “Is it the other man, the burnt one?”

Brienne choked. “Sandor?”

“Sandor,” Tormund spat. “You love him?”

His demanding question made Brienne cringe. In all the time that she and Sandor had been pretending to be married, to get rooms and houses through their journeys, she had never once felt anything for him, never once even considered that. He was a good man and she appreciated his friendship very much. He had done far more for Brienne and Cat, and the rest of them, than he had needed to since they had met, and he was a kinder, more loyal man than most that Brienne knew. But the thought of anything more in their relationship made Brienne gag.

“No,” she protested vehemently. “No, no, no.”

“Then what?” Tormund practically roared. “What is it? Can you not see that you need somebody?”

Brienne scoffed. “I need somebody?”

“Your girl deserves a father. I could be that man!”

Brienne looked away, to the duel, and found that Arya and Podrick had stopped and were watching them now instead. Sansa and Jon, and Cat, had their eyes on them too. Humiliated, Brienne gave Tormund one final chilling look, before leaving the courtyard and returning to her room, reminding herself that she was the one that deprived Cat of a father and that her daughter did deserve one, but she deserved Jaime, nobody else.

XXX

Arya crept into Brienne’s room an hour or so after she had stormed away after her argument with Tormund. She expected to find her sleeping, given that they had not heard from her in a while, and it was unlike Brienne to leave Cat for so long. “Brienne,” she whispered, just in case she was sleeping. Arya knew that she, Sansa and Cat took away a lot of Brienne’s sleep and she would be happy if Brienne were sleeping.

But she wasn’t. She jerked up the second that Arya spoke her name. She wasn’t wearing her armour any longer but her sword was at her side, and in her hand, pointing straight at Arya. Arya put her hands in the air. “Okay, Brienne, calm down. It’s only me.”

The room was dark but Arya saw the glint of metal as Brienne put down the sword next to her. Arya clambered onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows, staring at Brienne. Up close, Arya could see that Brienne’s eyes were red from crying. She almost wished that the light coming in from the window, sneaking in between a small gap between the curtains, hadn’t revealed it to her.

Arya swallowed. “Why do you keep saying no to Tormund? I don’t think he’s a bad-”

Brienne cut her off, “Arya, it isn’t that simple.”

Arya shrugged. “I’m not judging you. If you don’t want to be with him because you don’t think he’d make you happy, then fair enough, but I just want to make sure you’ve really considered it before you say no.”

“Because I’m letting Cat down by not providing her with a father?” Brienne asked. Arya could hear the pain in her voice.

Eyes wide, Arya said, “No, no, Brienne, don’t ever think that. Cat doesn’t have a father but she has a mother who adores her and she has us! She has a family, even if there’s no father.”

Brienne shook her head. “Do you think I’m a fool for saying no to Tormund?”

“It’s your choice, Brienne,” Arya said slowly. She did think that Tormund would do everything he possibly could do make Brienne happy, but she knew that there would always be something missing. “I know you’re going to say no because of Jaime, but-”

Brienne smiled. “Arya, I love Jaime. I love him so much that, even though he doesn’t know Cat exists, even though he’s still with his sister, I could never be with anybody else, could never let anyone else be the father of his baby. I have an heir for Tarth now. I don’t have any other use for a husband.”

Arya understood that. She hardly wanted to get married, but, then again, she was not going to have to run an island. If she were Brienne, perhaps she would want somebody to do that alongside her. And, as Arya had realised in the time she’d known her, Brienne was not Arya’s carbon copy. Sure, when they’d first met, Arya had thought that Brienne was everything that Arya wanted to be: a fighter, better than any man, not needing any man. But Brienne was different, softer. She wanted more than Arya did.

Arya loved being on her own and Brienne did not, which was why Arya was here, trying to make Brienne think again before rejecting Tormund. In a few years, Brienne would be lonely. Arya thought she might already be lonely. Tormund, at least, would keep that away. And, as far as Arya knew, Brienne had only ever known Jaime’s love. Perhaps if she would only open herself up to the possibility of something else, she would be able to find happiness.

But, Arya thought as she looked at Brienne, that was never going to happen. She was always going to torture herself over Jaime Lannister. And Arya would be by her side while she did, even if it hurt her, even if Jaime hurt her. Reaching for Brienne’s hand, Arya said, “It’s okay.”

Brienne nodded and Arya saw the tears in her eyes. The day she killed the Lannister twins would be a satisfying day indeed.

XXX


	6. Chapter 6

Riding to Riverrun from the Wall was not an enjoyable experience. It was far and cold and generally not an experience that Brienne ever wanted to repeat. She imagined Lady Catelyn making the trip from Riverrun to Winterfell after she got married, or before she got married. Brienne didn’t know a lot about Lady Catelyn’s life before she married Ned, but she imagined she had ridden the road from Winterfell to Riverrun many times and it made Brienne think of the woman she had named her child for.

When they got close to Riverrun, they found the siege that they had expected, the red and gold flags flapping high in the wind, and slowed to find some woodland where Sandor and Podrick could stay and protect Cat while Brienne accompanied Arya on her mission to bring her uncle back to Winterfell, with his army, to fight Ramsay and get him, and his army that had defeated Stannis’, out of the Starks’ home.

Sansa asking for her to go with Arya had been expected. Brienne had sworn to do whatever she could to serve Sansa and she was more than willing to extend that to protecting Arya as she ventured into the enemy camp, to reach her uncle, who, in the long run, would return with them and protect Sansa.

Brienne was pleased to be able to serve Sansa in this very practical way, though, every night, she thought of Sansa sleeping alone, having to protect herself from her nightmares, as she and her brother travelled to the lords of the North, in an attempt to grow their army, which was currently made up of only wildlings, led by Tormund Giantsbane. Brienne had almost left Cat with Sansa so that they would have each other for company. Sansa had offered to keep Cat with her so that she would not have to complete yet another harrowing journey, and Brienne had appreciated the offer and had thought on it for a few days, before they’d left. But, ultimately, she was unwilling to part with her baby for so long, especially in such uncertain times. She would never have been able to forgive herself.

So, Cat had come with them. She was transferred between horses and travelled on the fronts of them and then the backs of them, constantly moving positions. It was a good thing she was such an amiable baby. A more needy baby would not have been able to do all of this travelling without tears and screaming, but Brienne supposed that Cat was used to all of these people. They had been her family for almost as long as Brienne had and Brienne knew that each of them, even Sandor, loved her.

On the journey down, each time they camped, they had discussed what to do about the siege. They didn’t know much about it, only that it was Lannister-led. Brienne couldn’t believe that Jaime was leading it, especially after they had heard of the death of Myrcella Baratheon. She imagined that Cersei was keeping her brother and their son even closer now. Brienne hated to think about it.

But, after many evenings of discussions where Brienne had seen Arya watching her curiously, likely thinking about if Jaime was leading the siege, they agreed that Brienne and Arya would sneak into the castle, something that would be quite easily done, considering Brienne wore Lannister armour and a sword with the hilt of a lion. The valyrian steel part of the sword could be hidden in her sword sheath.

And Brienne could quite easily pretend to be a man. Nobody would look too closely at her. And no one ever looked too closely at Arya. There were always young boys and girls in siege camps, usually orphans trying to find food.

“Okay, she’s asleep,” Brienne said, shifting her daughter higher on her body. It was incredibly difficult to hold her in her arms when she was in her armour. While they travelled, they used a sort of sling to keep her in place.

“She’ll be fine,” Arya said from her position, lying down beneath a tree, throwing berries into the air and catching them in her mouth. Brienne watched her with amusement. “It’s Cat. She’ll cope. You’ll just have to pray she doesn’t start running towards the red and gold flags. Those colours run in her veins.”

Sandor snorted, earning himself a glare from Brienne. They were very cavalier about Cat’s parentage, which Brienne preferred to their judgement, but she did not want the fact of it getting out too far, lest Cersei discover it. She did not like to think of how Cat might succumb to poisoning.

Shaking her head, Brienne kissed her sleeping daughter’s golden curls and passed her to Podrick, who took her into his arms ably. He was very good with Cat, almost as good as Arya. Arya pushed herself up onto her elbows.

“Are we going?” she asked eagerly. Reluctantly, Brienne nodded. “Come on, then, they’ll look after Cat fine. She’s sleeping. She probably won’t even wake up by the time we’re back.”

Brienne nodded. Arya was right. Cat had only just gone to sleep. It was unlikely that she would wake in the next few hours, which was hopefully all it would take to get the Blackfish to surrender the castle to the Lannisters and come to aid his great-niece and -nephew in the North.

With one last uneasy look, Brienne and Arya left, sending prayers to the gods for protection over her daughter.

XXX

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater loved the way his life had changed since he’d met Tyrion Lannister. His fortunes had only risen. Even when Tyrion had fucked off and he’d lost the castle that Cersei Lannister had given him, he’d come with Jaime Lannister and been promoted and rewarded greatly with money. It wasn’t quite a castle but he did love being able to boss the posh pricks about. The only people with more authority than him in the Lannister camp were Ser Addam Marbrand and Jaime fucking Lannister himself. It was not a bad position for a former sellsword to be in.

His favourite thing to do was a perimeter run, to ensure that there were no weaknesses letting out traitors or letting in neerdogooders. It was essentially a quick ride around the camp, at the front of a line of second son’s and hedge knights who all hated the fact that he, a rough sellsword, was in a position of authority above them.

The toughest part of the perimeter was the part that backed onto the woodlands, because anyone could be hiding in there. Just a week ago, a group of Lannister soldiers had been ambushed by some angry Tully supporters and slaughtered, hung up on the trees as a symbol of their malcontent. Bronn was confident that he could take any vigilantes but it was still something to be wary of and he was always carefully listening as he passed by, ordering silence from the troops.

It was only as they reached the end of the stretch of trees that Bronn heard something in the distance. He held his hands up to stop the march of the men behind him and listened more intently, wondering if he was hearing things. Glancing to the man behind him, he saw that he too looked curious and confused. It was odd to hear a baby crying in the woods, especially here, so far from a town.

Bronn narrowed his eyes and swung down from his horse. He encouraged six men to do the same, summoning them with a wave of his hand. They crept through the woods to where the sound of a crying babe was getting louder and louder. Bronn’s hand was on his sword, just in case this was a clever ambush. He couldn’t imagine that a few riverlanders could come up with something so clever, but he wasn’t in the habit of underestimating his opponent.

As they drew closer, the crying started to quiet down, replaced by the sound of a quiet lullaby. Bronn furrowed his brow, sure that he recognised the sound. Only when he brought his men into the clearing where the baby was still weeping quietly did Bronn realise where he knew the sound from, a grin working its way onto his face.

“Podrick fucking Payne,” he said fondly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The young squire brought the babe to his chest swiftly, his eyes going wide in recognition and fear. It was quite a big baby, certainly not a newborn. Podrick glanced to his right where Bronn found someone who only intensified his curiosity and confusion. The Hound was standing there, on the other side of the clearing, recently returned with some water.

“What the fuck is going on, Pod?” Bronn asked urgently. Pod shook his head.

“Whose siege is this?” the Hound growled. “Is it Jaime Lannister’s?”

Bronn narrowed his eyes, not answering the question. His eyes shifted from the Hound to Pod again. “Where is your lady, Pod? Whose is the baby?”

The Hound cursed. “You take the babe, boy. I’ll fight this lot off,” he said quickly, to Podrick. Bronn was surprised by the Hound’s chivalry and selflessness.

Bronn chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re both going to come with me.”

“Bronn,” Podrick said, widening his eyes. “Don’t do this. No one needs to know that you saw us.”

But Bronn knew that people did need to know. His mind had been confused and blurry at first, but he understood now, as soon as he had realised that Podrick was supposed to be with Brienne of Tarth. Because the baby did not belong to Podrick, of that he was sure. And if it didn’t belong to Podrick, then why would he have it? It had to be Brienne of Tarth’s. And there was only one person that Bronn knew that she had fucked.

Jaime Lannister was grinning when they approached, laughing with Addam Marbrand, a man who Bronn appreciated for his humour and constant willingness to rip Jaime a new one. Bronn kept himself to the back of the group. The men who were holding the Hound would grab Jaime’s attention far more than Bronn, carrying a babe, would, even if that babe were Jaime’s.

Podrick was scowling by Bronn’s side when they saw Jaime’s face change as he recognised the party approaching, his eyes settling on the Hound. “Sandor Clegane,” he said, almost in awe. Bronn grunted but kept himself hidden. Clegane had been willing to fight to the death to protect this little girl from meeting Jaime Lannister and Bronn was very interested in why that was.

“Isn’t this amusing?” Jaime said smugly. “We heard that you had been sighted by the Eyrie, Clegane.” The Hound only grunted. Bronn wondered why he was so willing to fight for Brienne of Tarth’s baby. He suddenly wondered if there was something between them. It would make sense for two ugly fucks to be together but the baby could not be theirs. Her hair was too golden and her eyes too green. She was far too much of a pretty babe to have come from Brienne of Tarth and Sandor Clegane.

But Jaime Lannister’s pretty face could have counterbalanced Brienne of Tarth’s ugliness.

Bronn decided that Jaime was smug enough, so, one arm still holding the babe, Bronn grabbed Pod’s arm and dragged him forward, in front of the Hound, where Jaime could see them clearly. “Podrick Payne,” Jaime said in surprise. There was something behind his voice that Bronn knew had to do with Brienne of fucking Tarth. “How is your lady?” There it was.

Podrick spat at Jaime’s feet. Bronn snorted at his defiance and at the look of utter shock on Lannister’s face. Podrick Payne had grown some balls while he had been away.

Jaime looked at Bronn, his eyes incredulous, and then they settled on the babe. Bronn watched Jaime’s eyes go from amused shock to confusion. “Bronn, what the-”

“This is Brienne of Tarth’s child,” Bronn said and received the babe’s chubby palm in his face as he did. Scowling at the babe’s giggle, Bronn looked at Jaime as his face went blank, turning his eyes on Clegane and Podrick. He opened his mouth to speak, just as there was a commotion to the side of them.

Slowly, Jaime turned his head to see what was happening. Bronn did the same, finding the Blackfish approaching. Bronn blinked and suddenly wondered if this was some sort of dream. There were far too many people here who shouldn’t have been. Just as he was thinking that, he recognised the knight walking behind the Blackfish, taller than most men and broader too, with platinum blonde hair and startling blue eyes.

Bronn inhaled sharply as he watched Jaime’s throat bob. Since she had left, the man had been different, kinder, sadder. Bronn knew that he wasn’t fucking his sister anymore and that their loyalty was to Tommen Baratheon, not his mother. Bronn had a funny feeling that their allegiances were about to change.

The Blackfish came forward, a small girl at his side. “Lannister, I offer you my surrender based on you allowing all of my troops to leave without retribution.”

But Jaime wasn’t paying attention. Brienne of Tarth was watching the scene in front of them, her eyes wide and petrified. Bronn figured that seeing your child in the arms of what could easily be considered the enemy was a bit of a nightmare.

Jaime’s lips were parted, his eyes on Brienne, though hers were not on him. Bronn boosted the babe up in his arms and he heard Brienne inhale sharply. “Bronn,” Podrick cried, just as he felt a punch to the stomach. Crying out, he dropped the babe, hearing Brienne’s cry of horror as he closed his eyes in pain.

When he opened his eyes, he found the girl that had been at the Blackfish’s side, holding the babe and smirking up at him. “Sorry,” she said unapologetically as she sauntered away with the babe, to Brienne, who received her eagerly. Bronn turned to his side to find Podrick grinning and Jaime watching, hardly breathing. Bronn never thought that he would see Jaime Lannister so utterly silenced.

He shook his golden curls. “Is that- is that-” he stuttered at Brienne. The woman looked reluctant to say or do anything, as she held her daughter tight to her. The Blackfish looked bewildered, looking around at the other soldiers in confusion. The other soldiers too must have been wondering what on earth was going on, that Jaime had not snapped up the Blackfish’s surrender quickly and moved on.

Brienne ducked her head as she walked past the Blackfish and straight into Jaime’s tent. Jaime looked at her and then at the little girl who had winded Bronn so thoroughly, who scowled. “Go on, you prick,” Bronn muttered, shoving Jaime in the side. Jaime nodded dumbly and followed the mother of his child into his tent. Bronn sighed. What had he got them into now?

XXX

Brienne looked wonderful. Jaime had never seen something that made his heart feel the same. This was the way he had thought he would feel when he was returned to Cersei after over a year away from her, but he had been wrong. That reunion had fallen flat. This heart-racing fullness had been what he wanted and now he had it, with the woman that he truly loved.

“When did you find out?” Jaime asked, his voice raw as he stared at the babe in her arms, the little girl. She had golden curls and green eyes, big and happy. She was a happy babe, even without Jaime. Even without a father. Jaime wanted to cry. Brienne didn’t answer. “Brienne, when did you know you were having her?”

Brienne shook her head. “The day I left,” she said and Jaime’s heart broke.

“Before you left?” She nodded and Jaime had to look down at the floor to hide the burning in his eyes. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You would have asked me to stay,” she whispered, perhaps to shield the baby from the sound of them arguing and perhaps because her throat was as full of tears as Jaime’s. “You would have told me I had to stay and then I wouldn’t have found Arya or Sansa and I would have had to be pregnant in your sister’s court, trying to dodge her poison and assassins.”

Jaime closed his eyes. She was right, about it all. He would have asked her to stay. He wouldn’t even have said they should go together to find Arya and Sansa because it would have been too dangerous to have Brienne pregnant and in such a precarious situation. He shook his head. “You still should have told me. I have a daughter.”

Brienne nodded, biting her lip. “Her name is Catelyn.”

Jaime smiled wryly, looking into her eyes. “Of course it is,” he said fondly. Brienne scowled at him.

“I didn’t know what to name her. It was Arya’s idea. We call her Cat.”

“Cat,” Jaime repeated, enjoying the feel of it in his mouth. “Catelyn Lannister.”

Brienne tutted. “Catelyn Stone of Tarth.”

Jaime winced. “You gave her a bastard’s name?” Brienne gaped at him and Jaime met her eyes. “Okay, I am sorry. I understand.”

“Yes,” Brienne said, looking away from him. Jaime was silent for a moment.

“Can I hold her?”

Brienne looked up again and met his eyes. Gods, her eyes were so beautiful, sparkling and blue. She nodded and passed her into Jaime’s arms. He held her in his left, his hand cupping her tightly. She was the most precious thing in the world. He wished he had a second hand to hold her.

Her chubby hands reached up to touch his chin, where the beard that Cersei hated remained. Jaime could only smile at her innocent curiosity. He looked up and found that Brienne was crying. His smile fell. “What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

Brienne shook her head. “I’m not,” she said and Jaime furrowed his brow. “I’m just so happy that she got to meet her father.”

Jaime smiled at the reminder that he was her father. He had a child. Swallowing, he remembered that this was yet another child who did not have his name, who was not publically his. He made a snap decision. “Meeting her isn’t enough. I want more.”

He saw the reluctance in Brienne’s eyes and hated that he had not ridden off with her when he had the chance. They could have raised this child together, with Cersei out of the picture. But Jaime had another child, back in the Red Keep. “I’m sworn to Sansa Stark.”

Because of course she was. Jaime nodded, swallowing his thoughts about Tommen. “Then we’ll go to her, together.”

Brienne expelled a breath and sank down onto his bed, a few steps away from him. Jaime approached, putting their daughter - Cat - down next to her onto his silk covers. She crawled away immediately to play with the red and gold cushions that adorned the bed. “It’s nice to have you back in my bed,” Jaime said with a smirk.

With a scowl, Brienne looked up at him. “Jaime, I don’t want to confuse her.”

Jaime shook his head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

Brienne, eyes on the Lannister armour that she was still wearing, said, “I’ve spent all of Cat’s life, and all of my pregnancy before that, trying to be enough for her.” Her voice was full of tears. “It is going to confuse her if you come with us now and then leave.”

Jaime set his jaw. “That’s not fair.” Brienne blinked back her tears. “I didn’t know she existed. I’ve not had the chance to prove that I can be a good father to her. I- Brienne, I am not going to stay here while my girls are in the North,” he said, anger colouring his tone.

Brienne glared up at him. “I’m not your-”

Jaime cut her off with a kiss, cupping the back of her head with his hand and kissing her the way he had, over a year ago, when he had wanted to feel something and had come away feeling more love than he knew what to do with. She kissed him back, desperately, and hope blossomed in Jaime’s heart. This was what they both needed.

They would go to the North and be a family. A family. The word seemed so foreign to Jaime.

Jaime sank down next to her on the bed, when he pulled away, and moved his hand from the back of her head to her cheek. “I love you,” he said honestly.

“Jaime, don’t.”

“No,” Jaime said when she tried to move her face. He forced her eyes onto his. “I love you. I- I know you don’t have any reason to trust me on this but I love you. I’ve been serving Tommen, helping Tommen. He released me from my vows and I still served him because he’s my son, but I am not Cersei’s anymore.” Brienne bit her lip. “I want to be with you, Brienne. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I love you. I want to be with you. I can’t - I can’t lose you again.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing, not telling you,” Brienne said hoarsely. Jaime nodded.

“And I thought I was doing the right thing by staying.”

“But neither of us were.” Jaime shook his head, brushing her tears away with his thumb. He moved his eyes to his daughter who was watching them curiously. Jaime smiled.

“Let me be her father,” he whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes. “I won’t let you down, Brienne.”

She shook her head. “I know you won’t.” Jaime met her eyes and she nodded. Jaime felt his muscles stretch as he smiled, his whole face reflecting the way he had lit up inside.


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” Arya demanded.

Brienne sighed and looked over her shoulder, where Jaime was speaking with Addam, a smile plastered on his face. He didn’t seem to have heard Arya’s comment. Shifting Cat in her arms, Brienne glanced at Podrick and Sandor’s incredulous faces and realised how ridiculous she must have seen.

“I mean he’s coming with us.”

“But why?”

Arya seemed more confused than angry, though she knew that Brienne loved Jaime. Perhaps she thought that Jaime could never have loved Brienne. Brienne couldn’t even try to be insulted. It was what most people would have thought.

“He wants to be a father to Cat.”

Sandor spat on the ground. “He wants an easy out now he’s realised his sister is a mad bitch.”

Brienne gave Sandor a shrewd look and his returning one was unapologetic. Shaking her head, she said, “I know this is weird and I know that none of you particularly like Jaime but I’m not asking your permission.” Podrick half-smiled at that. “I’m informing you because you are my friends and the closest thing to a family that I have at the moment. Jaime is coming with us.”

Sandor rolled his eyes and grunted, the closest Brienne thought she’d get to him being okay with it. Arya only scowled. With a smile at Podrick who was watching her curiously, Brienne turned and headed over to where Jaime and Addam were talking.

Jaime’s smile widened and he took Cat from Brienne, the soft look in his eyes making Brienne beam. For so long, she had worried about Cat having no father and here he was, being Jaime. Cat poked her pudgy fingers into his face, tugging on his beard. “Addam, this is my daughter, Cat,” Jaime said to his friend. Cat leaned across and attempted to tug on Addam’s beard too, eliciting laughter from all three of them.

“Sorry,” Brienne apologised awkwardly. “She’s going through a stage of pulling anything.” Addam shook his head.

“No apology needed. You must be Brienne?” he said, extending his hand. Smiling, Brienne took it. “Addam Marbrand, Jaime’s second-in-command and best friend.”

Brienne was surprised to hear that he was Jaime’s best friend. She knew all about the Mad King and even some about Jaime’s relationship with Cersei, but he had never mentioned a best friend. “It’s good to meet you,” she said truthfully.

“And you are Jaime’s…?” Addam said, a wicked smirk on his lips. Brienne flamed red and she watch Jaime scowl.

“Alright, Addam, we’re leaving,” he said, tapping Brienne’s shoulder as he darted another glare at his best friend. Addam practically howled with laughter as they walked away, towards Jaime’s tent. “Are you ready to go?” He had a sweeter tone when he spoke to Brienne than he did when he spoke to Addam. Brienne narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“You’re speaking weird.”

“I’m speaking weird?” Jaime repeated, glancing at Cat who giggled. The sweet tone was gone. “How am I speaking weird?”

“Like sweet,” she said suspiciously.

Jaime’s lips twitched. “Like lovers speak, you mean?” he murmured. Brienne’s eyes widened and she glared at him, hoping nobody around them heard. Jaime laughed. “So, you want me to speak to you like I did before?” Brienne nodded firmly. Jaime rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, wench. You’re the mother of my child and I took your maidenhead. I’ll speak to you as sweetly as I like.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Brienne spluttered. He was smirking.

Jaime leaned into her ear and she felt his breath against her. Every hair on her body stood up. “I could speak to you like this, if you’d prefer, my lady,” he whispered, every sound sending fire through her blood. Shoving him away, she felt her skin heat. He was laughing and, when she looked, she saw him press a kiss to Cat’s forehead.

As they entered his tent, Jaime said, “What did your pals think about me coming with you?”

Brienne turned, her hand on the sword at her hip, awkwardly deciding if she should sit on his bed or continue standing. “My pals?” she repeated.

Jaime shrugged. “Pals, friends, companions. The Stark girl, the Hound and the squire I gave you.”

Brienne smiled. “They don’t have a choice. None of them are my father or my husband.”

“What about the Hound?” Jaime said so casually that Brienne realised he was alluding to something.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

Jaime shrugged, playing with the button on the throat of Cat’s cloak. “I just- you’ve been travelling together and-”

Brienne barked a laugh. “And so we must be sleeping together? Is that who you think I am, Jaime Lannister?” she demanded. Jaime’s eyes sparked. “You sound just like Tormund,” she said, mostly to irritate him.

His eyes narrowed, flames behind the irises. “Who is Tormund?” he growled. Brienne crossed her arms across her chest.

“Jaime, you’re ridiculous.”

“I just-”

“You just want to know if I’ve let anyone else between my thighs since you? You just want me to be yours and no one else’s?”

“Yes!”

Brienne groaned. “Jaime, I don’t belong to you!”

“Well, I belong to you,” he said with heat. Brienne’s face hardened.

“You should belong to yourself.”

Jaime shrugged, his face cavalier. “I don’t care. I belong to you.”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to the fact that I don’t belong to you.”

“But you won’t fuck anyone else?”

Brienne scoffed, reaching to take Cat out of his arms. He held her fast, looking at her expectantly. “No, Jaime,” she replied eventually. “I will not fuck anybody else, nor have I fucked anyone while I’ve been away from you.” Jaime smiled.

“Good,” he pronounced.

“Would it change your opinion of me if I had?” she asked curiously.

Jaime shrugged. “I would be insanely jealous and probably challenge whoever it was to a swordfight. If it was Sandor, I’d probably die, but I reckon I could take this Tormund fellow.”

Brienne smiled in amusement, recalling Tormund’s size and ferocity. “I’m afraid you could not. He is the leader of the Wildlings.”

“I didn’t think there was a leader of the Wildlings,” Jaime said.

“That’s how big and strong he is.”

Jaime’s scowl was so severe that Brienne burst out laughing, eliciting the same noises from Cat. “Oh, brilliant, you’re ganging up on me.” Brienne only laughed more.

XXX

Brienne found Arya waiting for her as she exited her tent. She’d got far better at setting up tents since they’d left Winterfell. It was set up for her, Arya and Cat, as it had been every night. “Where’s Cat?” Arya asked and Brienne thought that she sounded nervous.

Furrowing her brow momentarily, she replied, “with Jaime.”

“Jaime,” Arya mocked. Brienne gave her a withering look and stepped forward, not wanting to argue with the younger girl. “No, Brienne, wait, I don’t really care that you’re fucking Jaime.” Brienne spluttered but, before she could respond, Arya continued, “I just - I want to sleep in my own tent.”

Brienne had to smile at Arya’s nerves, as though she had forgotten that it was Arya that insisted on sleeping in the same bed, her need for comfort. Brienne had not minded in the least but it was not something she insisted on. “Arya, that’s fine.”

Arya let out a great sigh, making Brienne reconsider how scary she was as a person. “I just don’t want anybody to think that I am weak, especially my uncle and his army.” Brienne smiled.

“No one is going to think that you’re weak, Arya.”

Arya grinned a bit sheepishly. “You’ll be okay looking after Cat alone?”

Brienne ducked her head to hide her smile. She hadn’t considered that Arya had thought that Brienne needed her help to look after Cat. She didn’t, really, but it was nice that, sometimes, Arya would get up with her instead, unless she needed feeding. “I’ll be okay, Arya.”

Arya opened her mouth to speak but shook her head. “Thank you, Brienne.”

Smiling, Brienne replied, “Any time, Arya.”

As Arya wandered away, Brienne wondered if her ‘relationship’ with Jaime had anything to do with Arya’s decision. Brienne truly did not mind that she had chosen to sleep alone. It was probably a good idea. There would be a time that they could not be together and Arya would have to learn to sleep alone.

Despite her general gladness that Arya was becoming more independent, Brienne wondered if this was a sign that their little family was falling apart. Sandor already wasn’t speaking to her much, though she thought that was more a distaste for Jaime than anything and Jaime was often with her. If she was alone, she was fairly certain there wouldn’t be a problem.

Brienne was not surprised how anxious she felt over losing her little family. They had supported her through everything and the thought of them being gone was a horrid one that made Brienne’s insides burn.

Jaime had come crashing back into her life. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him - she wanted him so much - but he would not serve as a replacement for her friends. He was - Brienne didn’t know what he was, but she knew that she wanted to be with him, while assuring that her family remained by her side.

She felt as though she was trying to hold sand in her bare hands, and it was all slipping between her fingers.

XXX

When the curtains to her tent ruffled, Brienne grabbed her tent and jumped up out of bed, glancing at her armour, lying abandoned on the floor, regretting her decision to sleep without it. How could she be so foolish? Cat was sleeping - perhaps she could protect her long enough to -

“Wench, what are you doing?” an incredulous voice said.

Brienne exhaled in relief. It was Jaime.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, irritation creeping into her tone. She narrowed her eyes as she considered potential answers. “Jaime Lannister, if you are here for sex, you are mistake-”

“Shut up,” Jaime said, rolling his eyes. Brienne’s face morphed into one of affront and Jaime grinned, coming close and batting her sword away with his golden hand. “I just- wanted to see you,” he said and his face went a bit red. Brienne’s face was disbelieving.

“Don’t be soft, Jaime.”

Jaime barked a laugh and Brienne shushed him, pointing at their daughter. Jaime put his hand and golden hand up in surrender. “Can I stay then?” he asked hopefully.

Pursing her lips, Brienne said, “Yes, if you’re quiet.”

“I make no promises.”

Jaime approached and lay down on her bed, sighing loudly. “Lovely,” he said, leaning his face against the blanket that had been a gift from Sansa. Brienne blinked. “Come on, wench,” he encouraged, patting the space next to him. Brienne was reluctant but she did join him. He moved closer when she did, closing the small gap between them so that there was none at all.

“When did you become so clingy?” Brienne asked with amusement, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“When I didn’t see you for over a year,” was Jaime’s reply.

Brienne did understand the feeling, so much so that she, slowly and tentatively, wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Jaime smiled at her and tilted his chin up to meet her lips softly.

XXX

Arya crept over from her own tent to Brienne’s. Despite her words to Brienne earlier, she didn’t truly care what her uncle’s army cared about her, so made no effort to hide from the soldiers who were on watch. Her uncle’s opinion might have bothered her but not more than lack of sleep would.

And she couldn’t sleep. She supposed she had been naive to think that she would be able to sleep just as well alone as she did with Brienne and Cat. She had once and surely she could again but her body resisted. She had tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up and crawling out of her carefully constructed tent.

The camp was quiet and dark, fires having gone out long ago. The guard closest to her did have a small blaze going to fend off the cold, but it gave her no light. She walked carefully, so as not to trip on the wires that kept the tents in place, and eventually reached Brienne’s tent. For so long, they had been a camp of two tents and now there were thousands, with Tully men everywhere.

Brienne’s tent was quiet too and Arya quickly decided that Brienne would not mind if she interrupted her sleep. She pulled the curtain to one side and snuck in.

Even with no light to aid her, Arya could hear the sounds of two people sleeping. She swallowed and closed her eyes. She had a feeling she knew who the other person in Brienne’s bed was. Perhaps she should have expected it.

She did truly want her friend to be happy, even if that meant being snug in bed with a Lannister. With a light sigh, she left the tent, deciding that she would have to cope with little sleep tomorrow. Her body would have to get used to sleeping alone after all, or so it seemed.


	8. Chapter 8

Jaime chuckled as he entered Brienne’s tent. Though he had only stayed in there the night before, he was fairly certain Brienne was going to let him stay there on a more permanent basis so he had stopped asking before entering. If he saw her naked, it was nothing that he hadn’t seen before anyway. He found the tent empty however and his daughter waking from a nap, yawning.

Grinning, Jaime scooped her up into his arms. “Where’s Mumma, hey?” he cooed, letting her lean her sleepy head on his shoulder. Her golden curls were dishevelled from sleep.

Jaime wandered around the camp. He hadn’t seen Brienne in a while, but he wanted to update her on recent occurrences. Jaime had sparred with Addam in a clearing outside of the camp, so that none of the Tully army saw how weak he still was with his sword, though, admittedly, he was improving. He had walked back into the camp, his friend at his side, joking about, when Arya Stark had jumped down from a tree, right in front of him and made him cry out in fright.

Addam had not been able to stop laughing, even as Arya threatened him with her sword in order to make him go away. Jaime would not have put it past her to be able to take Addam out, even with her tiny sword.

“Brienne!” Jaime cried eventually, when he found her doing some sort of exercise. Her body moved lithely, each movement perfect and smooth as it transferred into the next.

She looked annoyed to be interrupted and then her eyes widened upon seeing them drawing closer. “Jaime,” she said in an admonishing tone, stealing Cat from his arms. “Cat was supposed to be napping. She’ll be miserable and grumpy later.”

“She was awake when I went into your tent,” Jaime said defensively. “Was I supposed to just leave her there, alone and bored, searching for her mama and papa?”

Brienne was not won over by Jaime’s wide-eyed explanation. “You’re dealing with her later, when she’s crying.”

“I’ll just put her to sleep,” Jaime said, raised eyebrows.

Brienne gave him a look, reminding him that she was the experienced parent and he had hardly been doing this for a week. “Then you can get up before sunrise to look after her, can’t you? She’s in a routine for a reason, Jaime.” Jaime looked at the ground and Brienne sighed. “What did you want?”

Jaime let out an annoyed breath. “I’ll just speak to you later.”

Brienne tutted. “No, what’s wrong?”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’d hate to interrupt you,” he said snarkily, taking his daughter back out of her arms and marching away, annoyed by the reminder that he was no good as a parent and irritated that she didn’t want to spend time with him as much as he wanted to spend time with her.

XXX

Jaime lay down on the bed, Cat sat on his chest. He had her hand in his, waving it from one side and then the other and delighting in the way she giggled. It was a good thing she was there to get Jaime out of his brooding and wondering whether Brienne even loved him or if she just wanted him to stay for Cat’s sake. She had let him sleep in her bed last night but perhaps that was just for Cat. As much as Jaime wanted to be Cat’s father - and he did, he truly and really did - he wasn’t sure he could cope being with Brienne without actually being with Brienne.

He sighed and then looked up at the sound of the tent curtains rattling. Brienne walked in, a no-shit-taking look on her face. “Are you out of your mood yet?” she asked, coming in. She turned from him as she started taking each piece of armour off. Jaime couldn’t even help her do that, with his one useless hand.

“Do you not want me here?” Jaime blurted.

Brienne turned to him, her breastplate falling to the ground and hitting the sheet that covered the grass soundlessly. Her lips parted and her eyes remained on him, no clear emotion in them. Jaime swallowed, almost wishing he hadn’t said anything. Perhaps this was just his insecurities carrying over from his relationship with Cersei, though he didn’t like to think that anything from Cersei affected his relationship with Brienne. The more likely suspect was his conversation with Arya earlier, getting in his head and making him ruin things with Brienne. Jaime was much happier blaming a Stark.

Brienne started to move, continuing to take off her plates of armour and stack them neatly. “Why would I not want you here? You’re Cat’s father.”

Jaime shook his head. “No, Brienne, do you want me here?” he asked, placing more emphasis on the ‘you’ this time. Brienne stilled again.

“Jaime, what do you want me to say?” she asked quietly.

Jaime exhaled in annoyance. “I want you to say that you care that I’m here, not just because you want our daughter to have a father, but because you want me. I want you to say that you want me. I want you to say that your life wasn’t full without me. In the name of the Seven, Brienne, I want you to say that you love me!”

He was breathless by the time he finished, from the exertion of speaking with passion but also from feeling it all.

Brienne placed her final piece of armour on her pile and then came to join him on the bed with irritating slowness. She took Cat from his lap and Jaime’s heart lurched with the fear of losing his daughter, of never being able to hold her again. But, as Jaime thought Brienne would stand and leave with their daughter, or force him to leave, she placed Cat on the bed next to her, then leaned over and kissed him.

It took a second for Jaime to respond. The sudden feeling of her lips on his sent a sort of white light through his brain, somewhere between shock and wonderful, sudden acceptance. He grunted as he reached up to cup her cheek and pull her closer. He felt as he had the first time, in her chambers at the Red Keep, but it had been him who had initiated it last time and it was now her, choosing to kiss him, choosing him.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes with a smile. “I love you,” she said.

Jaime’s grin was small but the emotion he felt was huge. “I love you too,” he responded.

“I’m sorry I was treating you like I just wanted you for Cat.”

Jaime shook his head. “It’s just me being sensitive because of-”

“Cersei,” Brienne finished with a nod. “And I know that, so I should be better to you.”

Jaime grinned and he put his hands on her waist, making a movement like a twist at her waist. Brienne furrowed her brow. “What are you doing?”

“I want you closer to me. You’re too far away.”

“You want me on top of you,” Brienne corrected dryly.

“Perpetually,” Jaime returned. Brienne rolled her eyes but she was smiling and she shifted so that her legs were over his lap and her arms around his waist, so that they were close but not quite straddling. Jaime could cope with that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Brienne shook her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I was scared you would leave.” Jaime closed his eyes and then opened them.

“I promise I won’t.”

Brienne nodded. “I know that now. I just- I thought that maybe you wanted to be here for Cat and not me.”

Jaime furrowed his brow. “Why would you think that? I told you- I told you at the camp that I wanted you both.”

Brienne shrugged. “I just- my head had a hard time believing it.”

Jaime gave her a small smile, understanding. “We’re going to have to get used to feeling wanted.”

Brienne met his eyes. “And we’re going to make sure our children never feel unwanted.”

“Children, hey?” Jaime repeated with a wide smile, its size reflecting the celebration going on in Jaime’s mind. Brienne blushed and Jaime reached his hand up to feel the heat at her cheek. “Children,” he repeated but with a firm tone. Now that he knew she wanted more, he wanted them too. The idea was suddenly abounding in his mind. He glanced at Cat. She would want a brother or sister, or both, or more. Children.

Jaime’s mind kept going, imagining their life together. They would live by the sea, on Tarth or at Casterly Rock. They would spar every morning and fuck every night. They would teach their children to fight and to love. And one more thing.

“Marry me.”

Brienne flinched, her hands falling from Jaime’s waist. But her face didn’t show she was upset. Every insecurity in Jaime’s mind was pushed away forcibly. She had just said she loved him and he trusted her. She would want to marry him. She was just shocked.

She blinked a few times, her lips parted. “Marry you?” Jaime inclined his head firmly once. Brienne’s lips were in a straight line but they started to curl at the ends. Jaime grinned. He had her. She was going to be his wife and Cat could have a name, a real name, not a bastard’s name.

“Okay,” Brienne said. “Let’s get married.” Jaime let out a loud whoop and kissed her before she could tell him off for being noisy. He felt her smile against his lips.

XXX

Two hours or so later, they lay in bed, having put Cat in her own bed. Just as Brienne had said, she was fussy because of lack of sleep. Jaime had kissed away her I-told-you-sos and then proceeded to, very quietly, make love to her.

It had been wonderful and Jaime was still not down from his high. He lay there, basking in the fact that he had not been kicked out of bed, that he could stay there with her forever and nobody would say a thing because she was going to be his wife. Well, he supposed, a few people would probably say something about their lack of marriage but, soon, there would be nothing that anybody could say.

“What were you going to tell me earlier?” Brienne asked, her chin poking into his shoulder. Her body was mostly hidden by the covers but he could see the slight curve of her breast.

“Hmm?” Jaime replied, distracted by reaching to tweak her nipple. Brienne gave him an unamused look and Jaime grinned, cupping her slight breast. Her body had changed in many lovely ways since she had had their child. She batted him away. “Oh, Arya jumped down from a tree in front of me earlier, which was fucking petrifying, and then she threatened me.”

Brienne only looked amused by Arya’s actions. “What did she say?”

Jaime shrugged. “If I hurt you, she’ll kill me.”

“Sounds like Arya.”

“She timed that jumping out of a tree very well,” Jaime noted.

“Were you scared of a little girl?” Brienne teased, her eyebrows raised. Jaime opened his mouth to protest but then she straddled him and his thoughts went entirely somewhere else.

XXX

Brienne found Arya by the campfire at midnight. Jaime slumbered peacefully in bed beside her, his naked body not an issue for him whatsoever. Brienne found it very odd to sleep naked, so she had put on clothes, much to Jaime’s dissatisfaction. Brienne pushed her smile down at the thought of him. She felt dizzy with love.

“Arya,” she called, a few seconds before she sat down. Arya only nodded. Brienne thought that the girl had probably clocked her coming the second she stood up from bed. She sat on the floor, whittling away at some piece of wood. “I want to talk to you.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Did Jaime snitch on me?”

Brienne pursed her lips. “Arya, I’m not annoyed at you.”

Arya looked up suspiciously. “You’re not?” Brienne shook her head. “Then I should tell you that I would really love to stab him.”

Brienne smiled. “I know.”

“Or cut off his cock,” Arya said as though Brienne hadn’t spoken. “That might be more satisfying for me, though not for you.”

“Arya,” Brienne said, flushing wildly.

The younger girl shrugged. “If it wasn’t for his cock, the whole war of the five kings wouldn’t have started.”

“And Cat wouldn’t have been born.”

Arya cocked her head. “Good point. I guess he can keep his cock.”

Brienne let out a short laugh. “Arya, I-”

Arya cut her off, “I know and I’m going to stop. I’m not going to like the guy but I get it. You love him.” Arya looked down at her lap.

“I love you too,” Brienne told her, reaching for her forearm. Her grey eyes came back up to meet Brienne’s. “You’re my family.”

“Even now that you’re a proper family?”

“Always,” Brienne said firmly.

Arya pursed her lips and nodded. “Fine. I won’t stab him but I don’t have to be nice to him.”

“Oh, definitely don’t be nice to him,” Brienne said with a smile. “His ego is much too big already.”

Arya grinned wickedly. “So I can be nasty?”

“Only if you can take it back.” Arya nodded.

“I’ll start crying if he says anything and he’ll feel super guilty.”

Brienne laughed. “Okay, Arya,” she said, leaning across to press a kiss to her hairline. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Yes, Jaime might be cold,” Arya said snarkily. Brienne pursed her lips at her and she grinned, shrugging unapologetically. Brienne walked away. Halfway back to her tent, she heard Arya say her name and she turned back. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

Brienne gave her a serious look and nodded. “I am.” Arya swallowed obviously.

“Okay. Go to bed.”

XXX


	9. Chapter 9

Lying naked in bed with her husband, Brienne sighed happily, burrowing her face deeper into the place where his shoulder and his chest met. “What are you sighing about, wife?” Jaime growled into her ear. Brienne laughed, a sound of joy erupting from her chest. Jaime’s hand caught her at her waist and tugged at her until she rolled onto his top. She grinned down at him. “Did I not satisfy you earlier?”

Brienne could feel that he was on his way to being able to satisfy her again. She twisted her hips in a circle that made him bite his lip. She’d have never known how sexy it was to see a man bite his lip if it was not for Jaime. In truth, perhaps it was just Jaime who looked sexy doing that. He was the only man she would ever find sexy again. Her husband.

“I was sighing with happiness, Jaime,” she said, bending down and kissing him softly. When she pulled away, he pulled her back, his hand tangling in her hair in the effort. He finally released her a few moments later, out of breath. She grinned and lifted her hips up again, settling back down onto him. He groaned in appreciation. Brienne was in no rush. They had all the time in the world.

“I can’t wait until we have a castle chambers,” Jaime growled against her breast as his hand played with the nipple. Brienne arched her back into him.

“Why’s that?” she asked breathlessly.

Jaime groaned. “I can make you make all the noise in the world, when there are walls to preserve the rest of the people.”

Brienne laughed, leaning back, away from his ministrations. He pouted and, smirking, she leaned further away. He stretched his hand out further. “That’s not fair, wife. You promised to obey me.”

“I promised no such thing,” Brienne swore, shifting her lips slightly, rocking against his hardness. He narrowed his eyes at her and thrust upwards, hitting her thigh. Brienne moaned quietly. “We have to fight a battle before we can have a set of chambers for our use.”

Jaime smirked and heaved himself upwards, giving him far more dexterity. He reached her with ease and Brienne grinned, letting herself fall into the pleasure of Jaime’s touch. “All the more reason to win.”

Brienne laughed disbelievingly. “Your life isn’t enough reason?”

Jaime pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes. “Not without you it’s not,” he said quietly. Brienne’s smile fell from her face. She reached forward and took his cheeks into her hands.

“We’re man and wife, my love. There will never again be a time that we are apart, I swear it.” They both knew that it was an impossible promise to make, especially in the wake of a battle, but it was a promise they both needed to hear nonetheless, and it made Jaime smile and return his hand to her chest and his lips to her neck.

XXX

They arrived at the battle after Baelish’s men, their horses pulling up short at the sight of the Vale’s warriors. The Blackfish had quietly asked Brienne which side the men, led by Baelish, fought for. With a grim face, Brienne informed him that it was undoubtedly for Sansa, though she did not offer further details as to why that was. The Blackfish took her at her word. Despite her marriage to Jaime, who the Blackfish despised, he seemed to trust Brienne.

The battle was bloody but their joining it had been helpful. It did not last long after they did and Ramsay Bolton was taken into custody, along with his soldiers, the most brutal of which were identified by Sansa and put on trial. Ramsay’s trial had been completed that very same day, however, and Sansa had held her head high while he was sentenced to death.

The most heart-breaking part of the day was when Brienne had watched as Arya and Sansa were reunited with their brother. It was as emotional as the first time, which had confused the sisters as much as Brienne. She had seen it in their faces and then had heard the raw agony in Sansa’s scream, seen the devastating shock that had sent Arya to the floor. Finally, she had asked Ser Davos the truth of it all and had understood: Rickon Stark had died, to Ramsay’s arrows, before the girls could even be reunited with him.

Brienne’s heart had broken for them and she’d expected their arrival before the knock at the door sounded.

She nudged Jaime awake. She’d not been able to sleep herself, well aware that Sansa and Arya would arrive at some point. “Jaime,” she hissed. He hummed and tried to snuggle closer to her body. Clucking her tongue at him, she pulled herself out of bed and tiptoed over to the door. She found Sansa and Arya both there, red-eyed and exhausted. She welcomed them in.

By the time they reached the bed, Jaime was sitting up, pulling his socks on. He greeted them with a tired smile. Brienne regarded him fondly. “Oh!” Sansa cried upon seeing him. “Of course- we- we’ll go.”

Brienne shook her head. “He’s going.”

“I’m going,” Jaime mumbled, reaching up to kiss Brienne on the lips. She brushed his hand against hers as he headed towards the door. “Love you.”

“Where are you going?” she murmured, watching Sansa and Arya clamber into the bed out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nursery.”

Brienne smiled and pulled Jaime back to kiss him once more. He was so sweet, tired and grumpy. “Give Cat a kiss from me.”

“Always.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Brienne shuffled back over towards the bed, where Arya and Sansa were already organising themselves. Brienne sank back under the cover, her lids already heavy with sleep. She could sleep now that she knew the girls were alright, that they were with her. “Sleep, now,” she murmured, stroking Arya’s hair and meeting Sansa’s eyes. “You’re safe.”

And they were. When Sansa woke up screaming, Brienne wrapped her in her arms and soothed her back to sleep. When Arya awoke in gasping sobs, the three of them sat for a little while, sleepy, talking about Rickon. 

And, even when, just before the sun rose, the three of them crept down to the cell where Ramsay was kept, they were safe, Arya and Brienne watching grim-faced as Sansa fed her husband to his own hounds.

XXX

“Come on, wench,” Jaime taunted. Brienne narrowed her eyes, regarding his arrogance across the courtyard. He was joyful, his smirk making him sinfully attractive. If she were a weaker woman, she would have struggled to spar with him, would have been distracted by the way he made her feel. But she was not a weaker woman. She was Brienne of Tarth, one of few women across the continent who could beat their husband to the ground with a sword. And she would enjoy it.

A smirk crept up on her own face and she darted forwards, the song of swords clashing sending shivers down her spine. There were few men she enjoyed sparring with quite as much as Jaime, even if he were not so much of a challenge as the Hound or Tormund Giantsbane. She loved the way his eyes glinted, the way he pushed himself off the floor with his one hand to go again and again and, recently, she had learned just how much she loved the way, after a few unsuccessful bouts of his, he dragged her away to their chambers and had his way to her, driving himself into her and hissing to her how much he loved the way she fought.

There were no men like Jaime Lannister.

However, this time, after three bouts in which Brienne beat him (and he was improving - he was more of a challenge now that Brienne was having him train his arm muscles), they could not sneak off to their chambers and fully enjoy the fact that few could hear them through Winterfell’s thick walls. Jaime was very appreciative of that. No, this day, in the courtyard, they found that they had something of an audience.

Wherever the new King of the North went, people followed. So, as he watched Brienne and Jaime spar, there were many who observed them equally. “Good show,” Jon Snow said, approaching with a sister at each side. Jaime, panting, slid his sword into his holster. Brienne copied him, smiling at King Jon. “There aren’t many men who would be able to spar with their wives.”

“No,” Jaime agreed, smirking. “I am a fortunate man.”

Jon smiled at Brienne. “Indeed.” Arya winked at Brienne, earning her a scowl. “I apologise for not coming to speak to you earlier, Ser Jaime.” Jaime blinked. Brienne had not been expecting King Jon to come and speak with them. She thought that he might just brush any lingering tensions under the rug - she was hoping so, because there was every chance that the king would decide to try Jaime for his actions in attacking Lord Stark in the streets.

“Perhaps I should have approached you myself,” Jaime said, uncharacteristically humble. Brienne drew closer to him, taking his hand.

“How can we help you, Lord King?” she asked.

King Jon shook his head. “I wanted to clear the air. Our families have had issues with the other for generations and I want to end that now. I don’t know Brienne as well as my sisters do but they trust her implicitly and I trust their judgment.”

“So you are trusting me on the basis of my wife?” Jaime asked, raising his brows.

Jon inclined his head. “Indeed. I’m forgiving your wrongs towards this family.” Jaime swallowed obviously. “And I am asking for a ceasefire of hostilities between us.”

Jaime cleared his throat. “I thank you for this, your grace. It is truly a kindness, but I want you to understand that I have no control over Cersei and her actions and I will not call armies away from my- my nephew.” Jon nodded.

“I understand, Ser Jaime. That is honourable of you.” Pride swelled in Brienne’s chest. “Instead of your armies, I ask you to train my troops. It is impressive how much of your skill you retain, despite your injury.” Jaime gave Brienne a look that was halfway incredulous, halfway arrogant. Brienne smiled at him.

“You are sure that men will want to be trained by a man who is so thoroughly beaten by his wife?” Jaime asked, quirking one brow. Arya snorted. Brienne levelled a glare at her.

“Oh, she will be training them too,” Sansa added. “There is no one we would trust more, to train our troops, nor to keep you in check.”

“Oh, she keeps me in check very well,” Jaime said, lowering his tone so that he sounded positively sultry. Brienne kicked his shin. He yelped. Arya laughed.

Jon laughed, too. “Thank you for your loyalty, Ser Jaime. If you step out of line-”

“I will not,” Jaime interrupted.

Jon gave him an assessing look. “See that you don’t.”

With that, the king strode away, his sisters remaining. “Just how does she keep you in check, Jaime?” Arya asked.

“Thank you, Arya,” Brienne said loudly, ending the conversation and dragging away, leaving the sisters giggling. Brienne smiled to hear them happy.

“Where are we going, wench?” Jaime murmured. “Because I have yet to fuck you since we sparred.”

Brienne smirked, heading up the ramparts. “Where else would we be going?” Brienne grinned as she heard Jaime’s quiet hiss of “yes” and turned her head back to look at him, meeting his darkening eyes. She quickened her step.

XXX

A week later, King Jon called on Jaime’s loyalty again. They rode off, early in the morning, to help harvest crops in one of the far-off villages. He would be gone for almost a week. Brienne had managed a smile as she and Cat waved him off that morning, though the night before she had come close to begging him not to go. They had not been apart since being reunited and she knew that they would both feel the loss of the other’s company. But Brienne understood that Jaime wanted to prove his loyalty to Jon, or, rather, his lack of loyalty to Cersei, and it was good for the Northerners to see Jaime work hard, especially when they nearly hated him for the drills he put them through in training.

That day of training had been much the same as others, though it was not as enjoyable without Jaime there to flirt with her. It had been too serious, something her life had not been since Jaime’s return. He made her life one of laughter and joy, in a different way than Cat had. But she managed, of course she managed. How many years had she been without a husband? She could survive for six days.

It was when she returned to her chambers, having left Cat with the nursemaid, that she really felt Jaime’s absence. She changed and sank down onto her bed, wondering when the last time she had slept alone was. Before Jaime, there was Arya and Sansa. She’d got used to sleeping with another body, at least one more body, in her bed. It was an odd, unwelcome feeling, the coldness of the sheets beside her.

Thankfully, within ten minutes, there was a tentative knock at the door and then “why are you knocking? It’s not like Jaime’s in there” and then “it’s called manners, Arya.” Brienne was grinning before they even entered.

“We thought you might be lonely,” Sansa said with a smile. Brienne nodded.

“Do you not know how to cope on your own anymore, Brienne?” Arya teased. “Have you become a soft woman who needs a man?”

Brienne scoffed. “I’ll show you a soft woman on the sparring field tomorrow morning, Arya Stark,” she said with a swat to the younger girl’s shoulder. Arya grinned.

“As long as we don’t have to deal with you and Jaime flirting,” she said, darting away before Brienne could swat her again. Sansa was giggling beside her, her hair twisted into a pretty plait. Arya approached the bed cautiously and made a big show of peeling back the cover. She turned her head. “When was the last time this was cleaned?”

Brienne tapped the back of her head, flaming red at the insinuation. “It’s fresh every day, Arya.”

“Oh good,” she said, jumping onto the bed. With a laugh, Sansa followed her. “Come on, get in, Brienne,” Arya rushed. “We have something to discuss.”

“To discuss?” Brienne repeated as she folded herself beneath the covers. Arya nodded hurriedly.

“Yes.” She glanced at Sansa, the movement barely visible in the dark. “When are you going to have another baby?” Brienne spluttered.

“It’s one benefit of having Jaime around,” Sansa added. “You could have lots of little Cats.”

Brienne laughed, pressing her heated cheeks into the pillow. “I’m not sure that Jaime-”

“Jaime definitely wants more children,” Arya cut off. “Jaime would have ten children with you, more. He would keep you barefoot and pregnant all the time. Let’s be honest, he’s already trying his best.”

“Arya!” Brienne said, scandalised.

Sansa scoffed. “Come off it, Brienne. We all know that you sneak off after training every day.” Brienne covered her face with her hands, even though she knew that the girls couldn’t see her. Sansa gasped, “are you already pregnant?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brienne dismissed. “We’ve hardly been married a month.”

Arya hummed. “It only took one night last time.”

“One night?” Sansa repeated.

“That’s what she told me.”

“Okay!” Brienne interrupted. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”

“That is a symptom of pregnancy,” Arya said, faux-wisely. Brienne harrumphed and burrowed her head into the pillow further, not thinking about pregnancy and Jaime and more beautiful children. Not thinking of that at all.


	10. Chapter 10

Sansa approached her, wide-eyed and rushing. Brienne was on her guard immediately, her hand on the hilt of her sword, Cat cradled closer to her chest and her stance tense and focused. “There was a raven,” she said and her voice was thick, like she had been crying. Brienne narrowed her eyes, unsure she wanted to hear what was coming. “There was a wildfire attack on King’s Landing.”

“An attack? By whom?” Brienne demanded, not removing her hand from the hilt of her sword although the sense of immediate danger had lessened.

“Cersei,” Sansa said with venom. Brienne glanced up to the window of the bedchambers that she and Jaime shared. “Queen Margaery is dead” - tears bloomed in her voice again here - “with many others, including Loras and Mace Tyrell and Kevan Lannister, and it appears that King Tommen has killed himself.”

Brienne’s breath shuddered out of her and she tightened her grip on Cat. “Jaime, have you seen Jaime?” she demanded. Sansa shook her head, tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” she said earnestly. Brienne removed her hand from her sword and passed Cat into Sansa’s arms. “Oh!”

“I’m sorry. Can you look after her? I have to- I have to-” and, without receiving confirmation from Sansa, Brienne rushed off to find her husband.

He was not in their bedchambers and it was only an hour later when a tip from a stablehand led her to the stables, where she found him, leaning on a wall with his right arm, his face pressed into his jerkin, eyes on the ground and sobbing like Brienne had never seen. She felt tears spring up into her own eyes.

“Jaime,” she said breathily, approaching him and holding him from behind, pressing kisses to his shoulders, nuzzling her forehead against his neck. His sobs were deep and rasping, almost as though he had forgotten how to breathe. She cupped a side of his face awkwardly and he turned almost reluctantly, meeting her eyes once and then burying his face into her shoulder.

“I loved her,” he said into her skin. Brienne closed her eyes.

“I know,” she said, tears escaping from her eyes onto her cheeks. “I know, love, I know.”

XXX

That night, they lay in bed together, numb from the raw emotions of the day. “She never let me hold them,” Jaime said, breaking the sad silence that permeated the walls. Brienne only turned onto her shoulder, to look at him. She didn’t speak or encourage him in any way. She wanted him to tell her because he wanted to, not because he felt he had to. “I held Joffrey once, after he was born, after I’d been with her during the birth, and she told me I was never to hold him again, for fear that somebody would discover our secret.

“So, I never even tried to hold Myrcella or Tommen. Every so often, I would speak with them and she would chastise me, hit me, tell me I was stupid.” His voice was so emotionless that Brienne didn’t know if he truly knew how abusive his sister had been to him, whether he considered those things to be normal parts of a bad relationship. At least he could see that it was a bad relationship now, even if he didn’t understand the extent to which it had been a horrific and abusive one.

“And now they’re all dead and their father never held them.” Jaime wiped tears away from his eyes with angry swipes of his thumb. “Their mother did. Cersei loved to walk around court, showing off her fertility, ignoring the whispers that the wife of Robert Baratheon, who fathered a bastard in every town he visited, should have more than three children. After Tommen, she learned how to make her own moon tea and made her own garden in the palace gardens, called the Queen’s Garden, just so that she could have the right herbs planted there.” Jaime sniffed, wiping his nose. “She never wanted any more children. I’m not even sure she wanted those children, save for the power they brought her. But she did love them when they came.”

“I’m sure they always knew they were loved, Jaime,” Brienne murmured, wiping the hair away from his face.

Jaime gave her a grim line of a smile. “Just not by their real father.”

“Myrcella knew, at the end.”

Jaime nodded. “Too late.” His tone was bitter and Brienne had nothing to say against it. “All dead, all my children by her, dead. It’s like the Gods wanted to just remind me that that part of my life is over, like they needed to make it final, as though that would be the thing that stopped me going back.” Jaime glanced up at her. “It was hardly a choice, you know, when I saw Cat and knew she was mine. I knew I had to send my army back to Tommen, to protect him, but I knew that I loved Cat the moment I saw her, more than I had ever loved the others.

“Does that make me an awful person?” he asked in a whisper, meeting her eyes again. Brienne felt her eyes well with tears. “Parents shouldn’t be able to choose one child over another. My father did it, hated Tyrion for something he had no control over, loved me more than Cersei because she was a girl. I always swore, when I was still living at Casterly Rock, that I would never choose one child over the other, because I could see how it broke up our family.”

Jaime let out a sob and Brienne tightened her hold on him. He pressed his wet cheeks into her shoulder. “Brienne, I’m scared.” His eyes were wild, mossy green and shining. “I’m scared that I don’t know how to be a father, that one day you’re going to decide that I’m useless or that our children will not know how much I love them.” Despite the situation, Brienne’s heart stuttered at the word children.

“Cat knows how much you love her, Jaime,” Brienne murmured, stroking his hair. “You were put into an impossible situation with Myrcella, Joffrey and Tommen and I know that you loved them in the way that you were allowed to. It is too difficult to deeply love people that you don’t know.”

Jaime said nothing, so Brienne continued, “I see the way that Cat’s eyes light up when you walk into a room, the way that she holds her hands out for you, already. She already knows that you love her and you’ve hardly known her for a moon turn.”

“You’d tell me if...” Jaime trailed off when Brienne had finished. He shook his head. “You’d tell me if I was cruel or unloving towards them. You’d tell me if I let them feel stupid or alone.”

They weren’t really questions but Brienne nodded anyway. “Jaime, I love you and Cat loves you and I know that you love us both.”

“I do,” Jaime said, his tears more soft weeps than sobs now. Brienne cupped his cheek and drew his forehead to hers, closing her eyes and letting him feel her warmth and love.

XXX

A week later, Jaime had started to recover. Brienne saw it in his eager sparring and the way his eyes started to light up again at the things he loved, in the way he teased Arya and in the way he loved her every night. The grief wasn’t gone, however. His eyes shone with tears when he held Cat and she would find him staring off into the distance sometimes. But all that was to be expected. Tommen had been the last piece of a life he had shared with Cersei, the last piece of evidence of it, aside from Cersei herself, and Jaime had loved Tommen, as an uncle perhaps more than a father, but he had loved him nonetheless.

Jaime was an excellent father. It had been cruel and foolish of Cersei to deny him that right. Brienne found it inexplicable that Cersei could choose power and Robert over Jaime, could choose anything over Jaime. Had it been Brienne in that same position, with a man who was by her side, completely under her control, and whom she loved, she would have run away with him and raised their family together. She could have done it, Brienne was sure. Cersei had the power and the money, surely, to be able to do so. But her power was more important than Jaime, more important than giving her children a true father.

But none of that mattered anymore. Cersei’s cruelty had left marks on Jaime, yes, and Brienne saw it in every surprised look he gave her when she touched him impulsively, in the pleasure he took in fucking her in the morning, in waking up beside her in the morning. A life of secrecy had affected him but they were creating a new life together now, one that would burn away all of the cruelty and sadness of their past ones, one that would be wonderful and happy.

And now there was another representation of that, growing inside Brienne.

Cat was one, the first wonderful and happy result of their love. And now she would have a brother or a sister as part of their family, to share in their joy.

Brienne arrived back at their rooms, happy beyond measure and clutching the herbs that the maester had suggested that she keep in her room, to foster serenity. Brienne was not sure she needed to, but she agreed nonetheless.

Jaime was on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, Oathkeeper in his hand. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously, amused at his focus. He jumped, dropping the sword onto the floor. Brienne’s eyes widened. “Watch it!” she said, hurrying over and picking up her sword. She scowled at Jaime. “You could have scratched it.”

Jaime chuckled. “You surprised me.” He drew her close, his hand curling about her waist. “And I’ll remind you, wife, that it was me that gave you that sword.”

“Mmhmm,” Brienne agreed, pecking him softly on the lips, “so you know the value of it even better than I do.”

Jaime snorted, burying his face in her neck. “Where have you been?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “The nursery maid stole Cat from me a while ago for her dinner with the other children. I said that we’d feed her but she said that you said that it was good for Cat to spend time with other children.” The accusatory tone in Jaime’s voice made Brienne smile.

“It is,” she told him, eyebrows raised. Jaime pouted and Brienne grinned, remembering what she had to say and reaching up to brush his lip. “I have something to tell you.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes. “Are you leaving me for that big ginger man?” Brienne snorted, tapping his arm. “What’s wrong, then? Are you leaving me for the Hound?”

“Jaime!” Brienne protested, laughing at his fake shocked and horrified facial expressions. He sobered slightly, his lips still twitching.

“Sorry, wench. Do tell.”

“I’ve just been to the maester. He says that Cat will be able to eat her dinner with another child of our own in about seven months.”

It took Jaime a second, a glorious second in which Brienne had the lovely opportunity of watching his emotions, watching the confusion turn to shock, turn to joy. “You’re pregnant?” he asked with awe-filled breathlessness. Brienne nodded, smiling. His hand moved from her hip to her stomach, where Brienne had barely begun to swell.

“Are you pleased?” Brienne asked, smiling but aware that the news that you were having a new child coming just a week after another of your children died was a sore topic. But Jaime only beamed at her and kissed her. He grinned and pulled her closer, moving his hand again from her stomach to her side and then to her arse, cupping it.

“I’m so pleased, wife,” he growled against her lips. “I think we ought to celebrate.” Brienne grinned.

XXX

That evening, they went to Sansa’s chambers. Cat came with them, in a sweet frock that Sansa had made for her and they sat down together with a cup of ale and a few snacks that the kitchen had made for Sansa.

“They keep making me things,” she said with the barest hint of a blush, “because they feel so terrible about not- not helping me. They keep apologising and giving me food. I’m going to get fat.”

Brienne chuckled. Arya threw her head back over the edge of the armchair that she was lying over and groaned. “I wish the kitchen made me food all the time.” Brienne watched her, amused. “You can tell them, if you want, Sansa, that it would make you forgive them if they fed your little sister.” Sansa snorted.

“I have already forgiven them, Arya, and, if you want food, you can go and ask for it.”

Arya tutted. “But they just deliver it to you, without asking. That would be nice for me.”

“That does sound quite nice,” Jaime murmured into Brienne’s ear. “Maybe now you’re - you know - we could get that sort of service.” Brienne swatted his leg to make him shut up. It was too late.

“What are you cooing in your wife’s ear, Lannister?” Arya said with a sneer that Brienne knew was put on.

“None of your business, little Stark,” Jaime said with an amused look. Arya scowled and narrowed her eyes, glancing at Brienne.

“What’s going on? Why didn’t he reply with something witty?”

“Awh, Arya,” Jaime said, holding his hand to his chest. “You think I’m witty?” Arya’s scowl deepened.

Brienne bit her lip. “While you’ve brought it up,” she started, glancing around the room. Arya, Sansa, Pod, Sandor, Addam. It was the family that she and Jaime had made and one that they loved. “I have something to say.”

“Are you leaving Jaime?” Arya asked eagerly. Jaime threw a piece of the cake he was eating across the room, hitting Arya in the forehead. He grinned wildly at his success.

“No, I am not leaving Jaime,” Brienne replied, pursing her lips. It was precisely what Jaime had joked, too. Arya and Jaime were in denial about how similar they were. “I’m pregnant.”

Sansa gasped, a long dramatic thing that had Brienne looking behind her for fear there was something to be scared of. “That’s so exciting!” Sansa said, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “Is this because of what Arya and I said?”

“No,” Brienne said, blushing lightly. Jaime turned to her with interest.

“What did they say?”

Brienne tutted at his nosiness. “Nothing. It’s not important.” Cradling Cat closer to her chest, she tried not to smile as she remembered the girls’ eager requests for her to have another baby.

“I hope you have a boy,” Pod said reverently. Brienne glanced at a sleepy Cat and thought it might be nice for her to have a brother, as she had had Galladon. The thought of losing a child was suddenly within her and seized her heart.

“Oh, I am going to sew more baby clothes!” Sansa enthused, bringing her away from her sudden depth of grief, a feeling that she had not let herself fall into for quite some time. Brienne smiled at Sansa, feeling her heart relax. She brushed her cheek against Cat’s soft hair and felt Jaime’s hand on her hip, drawing her attention. She gave him a reassuring smile that promised to explain later.

“So, how many children are you going to have?” Arya asked, immediately drawing Jaime into an argument that made Brienne smile. Sansa and Podrick were debating the advantages of another girl versus a boy. Sansa of course wanted a girl who could wear lots of pretty things, whereas Pod thought there were not enough boys in their family.

Brienne looked up and found Sandor watching her. She gave him a toothless smile, more of an extension of her lips. He inclined his head at her and then looked away when Arya drew him into her argument.

Brienne smiled, pressing a kiss to Arya’s head. This was family and it was perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

“Did you know he was with Daenerys?” Brienne asked as she sat down to breakfast that morning. They had watched from their window as Jon, Ser Davos and a few others had left, after receiving a raven from Tyrion Lannister, asking the King in the North to treat with Daenerys Targaryen.

Jaime shrugged. “There were rumours. I knew he was alive in Essos and I figured that Varys had gone to serve her, so I thought that Tyrion would have gone there too. I guess I was right.”

“Do you think you’ll see him?”

“I suppose that depends on how this meeting goes with King Jon and the Targaryen girl, but I very much doubt that the daughter of the man I slaughtered will be very inclined to have me keep my head.”

Brienne glanced down at her breakfast. She had not even considered that. “Tyrion will spare you,” she said, feeling less than confident. Her lack of confidence was shared in Jaime’s amused look. “He won’t?”

Jaime sighed. “There’s only so much he could do, if she wanted me dead, which she will. Ned Stark tried to convince Robert not to kill the Targaryen girl but the order came from Robert, so it went ahead.”

“And obviously failed,” Brienne commented, “as it will if she orders your death. I won’t let it happen.”

Jaime reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles. “I know.”

“But you’d best stop getting me pregnant, or I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Maybe I like you barefoot and pregnant,” Jaime teased. “It makes me feel more of a man.”

Brienne scoffed. “You don’t need any help with that, my love.”

Jaime smirked, leaning back on his chair. “I know.”

XXX

The arrival of Lord Baelish a few days later was not necessarily a welcome one. He had sent most of his army back to the Reach and marched halfway with them, before turning back. Brienne was not sure what he hoped to achieve by returning to Winterfell, when he had no real use. Winterfell and the Northerners were well protected, not only by the Northern army but by the Blackfish’s army from Riverrun. They were rebuilding the North, planting seeds and cutting down trees to make new houses for those without. Lord Baelish had been instrumental in their victory over Ramsay, yes, but he had no further use, and Brienne was very suspicious of his attentions to Sansa.

She had been there when Baelish had first returned, when Sansa had seen him in Winterfell Town, when she had told him what Ramsay had done to her. Brienne had returned to Jaime, shaking and crying at what she had heard. It was this knowledge, and the smarmy way he walked around Winterfell still, that made Brienne hate Baelish.

Jaime found her hatred for the man quite amusing, probably because Brienne was usually quite civil with people, even those who she disliked and especially those who Sansa worked with. She had told her husband multiple times that she didn’t have the right to dislike any of Sansa’s lords (and Brienne did, in fact, dislike quite a few of the boisterous men) because she was simply Sansa’s sworn sword. However, that went out of the window when it came to Baelish.

If he had only stayed for a few days and negotiated an alliance between the Reach and the North, then Brienne would have had little problem with him. But, the fact was, he had arrived a few days after Jon left and he was still here, two weeks later, talking to Sansa in whispers, appearing when Sansa was alone in the Godswood. Brienne knew that he had once been in love with Lady Catelyn, information provided by Jaime, and that he was a brothel owner in King’s Landing. Neither of these things endeared the man to Brienne. In fact, they made her even more concerned by his apparent obsession with her lady.

But Brienne kept this inside for the most part, except when she was alone with Jaime, until she began to see a tension between Sansa and Arya.

“What do you mean Sansa and Arya are coming to dinner here?” Jaime asked incredulously from the doorway. Cat was in one arm and she was pulling at his curls. Brienne smiled as she watched it. “Brienne!”

“I mean exactly that, Jaime,” she said in a huff. Jaime groaned.

“I thought that we were going to drop Cat off at the nursery and have a night to ourselves,” Jaime whined.

“Well, since then, I’ve found out that Arya and Sansa are being foolish, so we are spending the evening sorting that out.”

“Are you allowed to call your sworn lady foolish?”

Brienne felt her face flush but she said, “I am when she is allowing Lord Baelish to drive a wedge between her and her sister.”

Jaime’s eyes widened and he approached, taking a seat at the table Brienne had set for the four of them to eat. Cat perched happily on Jaime’s lap. “What’s he doing?”

Brienne clucked her tongue. “Oh, just trying to make Arya think that Sansa betrayed her while she was in King’s Landing and making Sansa think that Arya wants to be Lady of Winterfell.” Jaime snorted.

“Surely they can sort that out themselves. They’re not that stupid, wench.”

Brienne shook her head. “I’m well aware of that. I’m just forcing them to speak to each other to ensure it.”

Jaime smirked at her. “You’re going to be a good mother.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, glancing at Cat. “Thanks, Jaime,” she said sarcastically. “I guess I’m just not there yet?”

“No,” Jaime said, backpedalling in an amusing manner. Brienne raised her brows at him, sitting down opposite him at the table. “I mean, to two children. You’re already fantastic at being a mother. I meant to two children. You’ll not have them fighting all the time.”

Brienne hummed, helping herself to a piece of bread. “I suppose.” Jaime grinned at her, swiping the piece of bread from between her fingers and eating it himself. Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. “You should know better than stealing food from your pregnant wife.”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. There was a light behind his eyes that made Brienne glance at their bed and then at the window. The sun was setting. Arya and Sansa would be here soon. And they had Cat with them. She swallowed. “What are you going to do, wife?”

Brienne took another piece of bread and ate it slowly. “You’ll find out later, husband,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“Regretting cancelling our night alone?” Jaime asked casually.

“No,” Brienne said, looking up at him. His eyes were narrowed, a smirk playing at his lips. “I can wait. Can you?”

Jaime rolled his eyes and then the door went. He stood, passing Cat to Brienne. He bent and pressed a kiss to the sensitive piece of skin behind her ear. “Let’s make this quick, wench,” he whispered, the feeling of his breath on her ear robbing her of speech. She nodded dumbly as he backed away to answer the door, smirking at her as he did.

Ignoring everything that Jaime was making her feel, she turned to a sullen Arya and a falsely smiling Sansa and remembered that these girls were her family before Jaime and she needed to knock their heads together before they did anything stupid. And then she could take her husband to bed.

XXX

Knocking their heads together had a different result than Brienne had anticipated. They had talked and they had agreed that they were loyal to each other and to the North above all. And, then, they had decided to bring Lord Baelish down.

Arya had been the executioner, of course, but Sansa had not taken her eyes away from the scene as it happened. She had not flinched and Brienne had been almost proud of her for not showing any weakness. She showed that she was worthy of the power that Jon had left her.

Of course, the official reason for Lord Baelish’s trial and execution was his murder of Lady Lysa Arryn, but Brienne knew that, behind that, he was most guilty of organising Sansa’s marriage and subsequent months of rape and torture at the hands of Ramsay Bolton. Brienne understood why Sansa had not shared that officially, but she knew that the Northern Lords would have been furious with the knowledge of it and would certainly not have protested his death.

Brienne hadn’t seen Sansa since then, though she had glimpsed Arya as she slipped into her chambers earlier. She assumed that the girls wanted some time together, so she had gone about her day and ensured that nothing would happen to bring Sansa away from her quiet reflections with her sister.

It was a long day, because of that, and, when Brienne finally settled into bed that evening, her daughter in the crib at the end of the bed for that night (they liked to have Cat in their room at least half of the nights of a sennight), she snuggled up close to her husband and sighed into his shoulder.

“Long day?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” Brienne hummed. She cupped his cheek and kissed him shortly. “I’m so tired, Jaime.”

He pulled her close and wrapped his hand around her, caressing her growing stomach. It was not so obvious that anybody had noticed yet, and certainly not under her armour, which she could still just about fit into, but it was certainly growing more rapidly than it had when she was pregnant with Cat. The maester told her that that was normal, however, with second babies.

“Remember that you have this little one draining some of your energy, my love,” Jaime said, his voice soft and sweet. Brienne smiled, looking into his eyes. Sometimes, she forgot just how fortunate she was to have this man be her husband. “Make sure you’re not overexerting yourself.”

“I promise I’m looking after us both,” she said sleepily. Jaime chuckled, the vibrations of his body affecting Brienne too. She smiled.

“And me too,” Jaime added, squeezing her tighter. Brienne laughed into his chest.

“That is true,” she allowed. “You are useless on your own.”

Jaime nodded, humming lightly. “Absolutely useless without you, wench.”

Brienne tapped his stomach lightly and he laughed, kissing her shoulder. Brienne was about to speak again when there was a knock on the door. Brienne groaned aloud, a sort of whimpering noise that she hoped made Jaime feel sorry for her. He clucked his tongue and pulled away from her, his warmth receding instantly. Brienne frowned.

Jaime padded over to the door. He was wearing only his loose-fitting sleep trousers, his chest and feet bare. They generally relied on each other to stay warm at night, though Brienne preferred to sleep with a long shirt, especially now that her breasts were so sore. The shirt provided her some slight comfort for the times when Jaime would accidentally brush up against her in his sleep.

“Is Brienne here?” she heard from the door, the voice weepy and choked. Brienne sat up immediately and jumped out of bed.

“Sansa, what’s wrong?” she asked urgently. Her shirt was long enough to cover her up to her lower thigh but she was aware that her knees were on show. “Come in,” she hurried. Sansa nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Jaime, love, close the door and light a candle.”

Brienne wrapped an arm around Sansa’s waist and led her over to the loveseat, where she sat down with her, holding her tight in her arms. Sansa’s soft weeps turned into sobs against Brienne’s chest. She rocked her slowly, humming slightly like she did when Cat was crying.

Brienne glanced at Jaime as he lit the candle, bringing a small amount of light to the room. She nodded at their daughter, who was stirring, awoken by Sansa’s cries. Jaime scooped her up and made the same sorts of noises that Brienne was making. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sansa said, hiccupping lightly when she noticed that Cat had woken up. “I thought she would be- I thought you used the nursery.”

“We do half the time,” Brienne assured her, stroking her hair, “but sometimes we want her with us. What’s going on, Sansa?”

“I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“We weren’t asleep yet,” Brienne assured her.

Sansa’s eyes widened. “Oh- I’m sorry for inter-”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Jaime cut in, his voice amused. He came over to them and perched on the floor, Cat on his lap, her eyes wet with unshed tears and her lips pouting. Jaime leaned back against Brienne’s bare legs. “We were chatting.”

“Oh,” Sansa said, wiping her eyes. She pulled away from Brienne slightly. “I just- I’m scared- do you think I’m like Cersei?”

She directed the question at Brienne but a strangled noise emerging from Jaime’s mouth attracted their attention to him. “Sansa, you are not like Cersei.”

“I just- killing Ramsay, killing Baelish, she would have done that.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “Yes,” he agreed, “but those men did you wrong, Sansa. You didn’t kill them to take away their power or to make you feel better about yourself. You killed them because they were a rapist and a murderer.” Sansa met his eyes but Brienne could see that she wasn’t convinced. “Sansa, you are ambitious and I think that you like your power, but that doesn’t make you Cersei. Cersei - Cersei disliked Margaery having power so much that she had her arrested and then blew up the greatest religious place in the Seven Kingdoms, killing hundreds of people, for the sake of one woman’s death, and she did all that knowing that her son loved that one woman. She uses everybody around her for her own means. You aren’t like that, Sansa.”

Brienne could hear the pain in Jaime’s voice and wished she could hold him like she was holding Sansa. “You would tell me-”

“Yes,” Jaime said before she finished. “I swear, Sansa, that I will tell you if you become like Cersei.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replied, still trembling. “I’m sorry for-”

“Don’t apologise,” Brienne said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “You are always welcome here.”

Sansa laughed, reaching up to dry her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” Brienne only smiled, glad that she could help her in this way and feeling a fresh wave of grief for Lady Catelyn pour over her, aware that it should have been her here, helping her daughters. Brienne only hoped that she was doing it well enough for Lady Catelyn’s approval.


	12. Chapter 12

The door shook as it hit the timber framings behind it, the handle denting the wall slightly. Brienne glared at the impact it had made and then slammed it back into its frame, enjoying the way that it rattled. She slung her sword, belt included, over one of the bed posts, and huffed as she sank down onto the bed, head in hands.

“Tough day?” the sarcastic voice of her husband said from behind her. Brienne turned to him with a glare and he smiled, leaning forward to cup her cheek and press a kiss to her lips. “What’s the matter, my love?” he asked softly. Brienne sighed and leaned back, allowing Jaime to stroke her hair.

“I can’t do anything anymore.”

Jaime chuckled, earning himself a glare. “Brienne, wench, you’re eight months pregnant. The babe is growing. I would be surprised if you could do the things you could when you were skinny and flat-chested.”

“I’m not sure I was ever skinny,” Brienne said, laying her hands flat on her enormously round stomach. She was far larger than she ever had been with Cat, which she was told was normal for a second babe, but it didn’t make it any less inconvenient. Jaime hummed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“I know, wench.”

“You and your stupid cock.”

“See if you’re still calling it stupid in three months when we fuck again.”

Brienne harrumphed. “I will be when you get me pregnant for the third time.” She heard Jaime’s face turn to a smirk. “You just like me barefoot and pregnant. It makes you feel like you’ve got big balls.”

Jaime snorted. “As much as I do enjoy having you pregnant and glowing, and knowing that you are carrying my child inside you, another member of our little family, I promise that we can be more careful after this one, if that’s what you want. We needn’t have any more children. You can take moon tea or I can pull out.”

“Or we could stop having sex all together,” Brienne grumbled. Jaime chuckled and shuffled down the bed, dislodging her head from his chest and leaving her lying fully on the mattress. She sighed. Jaime’s head was soon besides hers, propped up on his elbow.

“I’ll remind you that you said that in a few months when you’re begging me to fuck you, wench,” he said with amusement. 

“You can,” Brienne said, snuggling backwards so that her body aligned with his. He wrapped his arm over her, fingers splaying over her belly. “I will always remember how I feel right now.”

“Okay,” Jaime said, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear. Brienne groaned.

“No fair, Jaime,” she pouted and Jaime chuckled, pressing another, longer kiss to her neck.

“I’m sorry, my love. If I could carry the children for you, I would.”

“I know,” Brienne sighed, closing her eyes and enjoying Jaime’s warmth behind her. He tightened his hold on her, breathing heavily against her hair, which had grown at a stupendous rate during her pregnancy. Even cutting it once a month hadn’t been enough to stop the curls forming at the bottom of her neck. She had taken to tying it up in a small tail, just to get it away from her face.

There was a knock at the door. Brienne let out a whine. “No more people,” she protested, pressing her body back against Jaime’s. Jaime pulled her even tighter, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, and nodding against her.

They knocked again, more insistently. “It’s open!” Brienne called, irritably. Jaime started to pull away but Brienne held him in place. “Whoever it is can fuck off as soon as they’ve said whatever they need to say,” she told him, “so you can stay there and hold me. I’m pregnant so you have to do what I say.”

It was Arya at the door so Brienne didn’t move, even when she came to perch on the end of the bed. “You okay?” she said with concern. Brienne nodded with a sigh.

“Just tired and achy and feeling useless. The usual. What’s the matter?” Jaime shifted against her back. Arya sighed.

“I’m really sorry, Brienne,” she started. Brienne narrowed her eyes, leaning upwards as much as she could.

“What?”

Arya cringed. “Jon has sent a summons for Jaime. He’s bent the knee to the Targaryen queen and she is going to meet with Cersei. They want a representative from the North - and Jaime.”

“No,” Brienne moaned, reaching awkwardly to hold Jaime in place behind her. “He’ll miss the baby being born, Arya, no.” Horror replaced sadness as all the repercussions played out behind her eyes. “Please, Arya, I can’t do without him.”

“It’s okay,” Jaime murmured into her neck. “It’s all going to be okay.” But tears had sprung into her eyes and they were flowing down her cheeks, ignored as she pulled herself into a seated position.

“I can’t do anything, Arya. I can’t even pick Cat up at the moment. How will I live without Jaime?”

Jaime sat up too, with a heavy sigh. “My love,” he whispered, “if Jon needs me.”

“Don’t,” Brienne snapped. “You’re not going south. You’re staying here, with me. I don’t want you anywhere near Daenerys Targaryen or Cersei.” A sob escaped Brienne’s throat. “You won’t come back.” Brienne barely heard Arya excuse herself. “Jaime, no.”

Jaime nodded. “Okay, love, I’ll go and talk to Sansa and we’ll sort this out, okay? You won’t be alone,” he promised. Brienne nodded but her tears didn’t stop, even as Jaime cupped her cheek and left the room, the heartache on his face reminding Brienne that he didn’t want to miss their child’s birth either.

XXX

“I’m not going,” Jaime said as soon as he saw Sansa. Sansa sighed. “You can’t make me go.”

“You’re right,” she said pleasantly, looking up from her paperwork. Her office was as neat as Jaime’s chambers were when he tidied them - not when Brienne declared them tidy. For such an uptight person, she was incredibly messy. Sansa, though, was just as tidy as her uptight, controlled personality. “If you decide that it is not the right thing to do, I will not force you to go.”

Jaime groaned. “Don’t say it like that, Sansa, like I’m the bad guy here. I can’t leave Brienne right now, or ever.”

Sansa gave him a soft smile. “Sit down, Jaime.” Jaime does so, letting out a heavy sigh. “As I say, I will not force you to go. It is your decision, and Brienne’s. I understand the danger involved and, if you go, Arya will be accompanying you. She was very eager to volunteer.” Jaime furrowed his brow. “I believe it has more about not having to be anywhere near Brienne in the delivery room.”

Jaime snickered. “I wish she could go instead of me, rather than just with me.”

Sansa nodded gravely. “You understand that they are asking you to go so that you can convince Cersei, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jaime said with a barely restrained groan. “And it won’t work. I’ve not spoken to her in nearly a year and I abandoned her to marry Brienne. She will not have taken that lightlyYou’d be better having Tyrion speak with her.”

“Well, I think he is going to try too,” Sansa said, “but we both know how that will go.”

Jaime nodded, biting his lip. “If I don’t go, how do you think Daenerys will see that?” Sansa gave him a look that confirmed his suspicions.

“But you are always safe here, Jaime. You have guest right here, for as long as you don’t piss me off.” Jaime rolled his eyes fondly.

“I think I have to go and speak to Brienne.”

“I think that’s best.” Jaime stood to leave. At the door, Sansa called his name and he looked back. “I will look after her, you know?” she said seriously. Jaime chuckled.

“I know, Sansa. I just wish it was going to be me.” She smiled and Jaime left.

XXX

“How can I leave you?” Jaime said that evening, tracing images over Brienne’s swollen belly.

“We both know you have to,” she said, stroking his hair. When Jaime had returned, she had told him that she was wrong and he had already realised the same. If there was even a chance that Jaime could convince Cersei, or get Daenerys to see him for who he was, then they had to take it. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, my love,” Jaime said, cupping her belly. “You will tell my babies that I love them every day, won’t you?” His anxious tone made Brienne’s throat fill. She only nodded, unable to speak. “Gods, I can’t believe I’m missing this again. I must be the worst father on the planet.”

Brienne snorted. “Hardly, Jaime.”

“I wanted to be in the birthing room,” he said quietly. “I wanted to hold your hand and give you water and stroke your hair.”

“I know,” Brienne said soothingly, “but I’ll tell the baby that you were saving the world. He or she will understand.”

“I hope it’s another girl,” Jaime said dreamily. “As tall as you with your eyes.” Brienne chuckled, running her hand through his hair.

“And your golden curls and high cheekbones.”

“And your lips. Definitely your lips.” Brienne snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d rather give them your ego than my lips.”

Jaime squawked and sat himself up, looking into her eyes. “That is rude, wench. I want our babies to have my ego. I think Cat is already there. She doesn’t like any of the other babies in the nursery.” Brienne laughed, leaning her head against his.

“You’re right. They should all be as confident and funny as you.”

“Funny, wench?” Jaime repeated, his eyes lighting up. “You think I’m funny?”

“It’s the only reason I married you,” she said seriously. Jaime pouted and Brienne laughed, brushing her thumb over his lip. “It was for your body, really.”

“Oh, good,” Jaime teased. “The same reason I married you then.”

“Don’t lie, Jaime,” Brienne returned, unable to contain her laughter.

Jaime hummed seriously. “Yes, indeed, Brienne. All I wanted were your legs wrapped around my arse. It was all I was thinking about at the sept.” Brienne flushed and Jaime grinned triumphantly, cupping her face and kissing her. “Of course it was partly because I loved your honour and your sense of duty and the way you make me feel inside, but it was definitely mostly about your legs.”

Brienne smiled. “I’m going to miss you, my Jaime.”

“Your Jaime,” he repeated with a smile. Brienne cupped his cheek tenderly. “My Brienne, for the rest of time. My girls.”

XXX

Jaime had been gone a week but waking up to an empty bed each day still made her feel empty inside. She splayed her hand across the sheet next to her. She was huge and should be grateful for all the room in her bed, without Jaime’s perpetually warm body making her overheating and without his soft snores in her ears. She wasn’t grateful, though. Rather, every day, she awoke bitter and angry at King Jon and this Targaryen queen. By midday, she was more rational but the mornings always started with such a severe lack of Jaime that her heart was willing to feel anything else more powerful.

Sansa had breakfast with her every morning without fail, no matter what else she had to be doing. Sometimes they ate in the main hall together but often they ate in Brienne’s chambers. Brienne was too far pregnant to be doing anything truly productive to help Sansa, so, after breakfast, she would either stay and eat more or return to her chambers. Every time she tried to do anything else, she just felt too tired. She’d read more books in the past week than in the last year.

“How are you?” Sansa asked her that morning, as she always did, and squeezed her hand, as she always did. Her lady watched her carefully, eyes scanning her face and body, with a dimmed look in her eyes.

Brienne smiled wearily. “I’m fine, worried for Jaime, but fine.”

“He’ll be okay, Brienne,” Sansa said quietly.

Brienne worried her bottom lip. “He’s gone south, Sansa, where he is going to confront two queens who both have reason to kill him. If he comes back perfectly fine, the Gods must have made it happen.”

“He has a quick tongue,” Sansa reminded her, “and three reasons waiting here for him to use every bit of resolve he has to return.”

Brienne smiled. “I know and I trust him to use it.” She shook her head. “Ignore me. Give me a few hours and I’ll be cursing his name for getting me pregnant.”

Sansa grinned, squeezing her hand once more. “That, I can get on board with.”

XXX

Three weeks had passed and no raven had arrived to say that Jaime had joined up with Daenerys and her company. Sansa told Brienne patiently every morning that it took at least a month to reach King’s Landing, never mind Dragonstone.

And Brienne understood but, in the back of her mind, she was reminded that the timings were key here. If she didn’t give birth to the baby by the time Jaime had left Dragonstone, he would know nothing of him or her - Brienne had no instinct of the baby’s sex this time as she had with Cat - until he returned to them, whenever that would be. Brienne was well aware that the child would be two moons old when he returned, if the dates the maester had given her were correct.

But, in the midst of all this worry and overplanning, Brienne felt, with relief and a searing twinge across her belly, her first pain. The baby was on its way.

The servant that Sansa had tailing her notified Sansa immediately, and then the maester, as Brienne ordered. She cared more about Sansa holding her hand and helping her through it than she did for the maester having his hands anywhere near her. She would have preferred to have a midwife, as she had with Cat, but that was the way of peasant women, not ladies.

It was hours of sweating and screaming and crying. She sobbed for Jaime and then screeched that she would never let him touch her again. It was hours and hours and Brienne’s only knowledge of how long it was taking was the meals that the servants brought in for Sansa, signifying that it was breakfast, dinner or supper. The curtains were pulled shut, so Brienne could not even see if the sun had set.

A few hours after Sansa had eaten her breakfast, when Brienne’s strength was flagging to the extent that the maester was having quiet conversations with Brienne’s liege lady and Brienne was weeping without any real force, the baby finally started to make its way into the world.

Renewed strength filled Brienne’s bones. When she closed her eyes for a moment, she could see Jaime smiling at her, could see Cat giggling in her father’s arms. She was having another baby. She had done it once and she would do it again.

She arrived with a piercing cry, louder than Cat’s birth sobbing had been, but just as much of a relief. Brienne let out a relieved sob and Sansa’s kiss on her forehead was almost as welcome as Jaime’s would have been. She let her tears flow as the maester approached her with the baby. She did not want to miss a second of her baby’s first few moments.

The blanket had been knitted by Sansa and embroidered with sunbursts and lions, more intricately than Brienne ever could have managed. There were many such blankets in the nursery, ready for Brienne’s new baby, half spurred on by Sansa’s nervous knitting habit and the other half donated by various women around Winterfell and in its village, who knew that Brienne was the saviour of the Stark girls.

“Hi, baby girl,” Brienne cooed to her baby, holding her gently and brushing her thumb against her cheek. She was so soft, so gentle. When her eyes flickered open, they were bright blue, like Cat’s had been at birth. Within a few weeks, Cat’s were green like her papa’s. “I’m your mama.” The baby blinked. A sister for Cat.

A jolt of pain brought Brienne back to reality. “The afterbirth,” she mumbled, groaning with the pain. The maester gave her a look, furrowing his brow.

“My lady, have you considered the possibility of a twin birth?”

“Fuck off.”

And, yet, within minutes, the new baby’s sister had entered the world too, her eyes just as blue and her skin as soft. Brienne sobbed as the two babies lay against her chest.

“Okay, babies,” Brienne murmured. “Dada’s not here right now, so you have to be really good for me. He loves you but he has to save the world. He’ll be back soon.”

Their blue eyes fluttered up at her. Brienne smiled, feeling overwhelmed by the love she held for both of them, not split but doubled.

“What are you going to call them?” Sansa’s soft voice asked. Brienne smiled and looked at her.

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think you named your first for a warrior woman, so you should continue the pattern.” Brienne nodded slowly and smiled.

“The first one will be Visenya,” she said, stroking the cheek of her first baby, “and the second, Nymeria.”

Sansa smiled. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed the babies' names from the one shot! I preferred to have meaning behind them rather than just name them after Brienne's sisters who died. I decided that that was a bit depressing


	13. Chapter 13

Daenerys Targaryen sat like a queen. The emotionless look with which she regarded him was queenly; her clothing was queenly. Everything about her screamed that she was going to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jaime bowed to her. At his side, Arya and Podrick did the same, as did the retinue behind him.

“Your grace,” Jaime said, his tone level. Her eyes were purple. She looked so like her mother. Behind his eyes, Jaime could hear Rhaella Targaryen’s screams, the pain behind her eyes when she appeared in public. Bile rose in his throat.

“Jaime Lannister,” Daenerys said as though she was speaking a curse word. Jaime swallowed, inclining his head. “When Lord Snow had me call you here, I was reluctant.” Jaime glanced at Jon, standing in front and to the side of Daenerys. He met Jaime’s eyes and looked away. Jaime hoped he felt immeasurably guilty for purposelessly pulling him away from his child’s birth. Brienne would have given birth by now, probably. He sent a quick prayer to the Mother, for her protection. “I was surprised that an honourable man would ever associate himself with a traitor, a man without honour.”

Jaime met her eyes again at her last epithet for him. He opened his mouth to speak but was distracted by the opening and closing of a door and the cry of “Jaime!”

Turning to find his brother approaching him, Jaime was smiling before he was conscious of it, crouching down to accept his embrace. He pressed a smacking kiss to his brother’s cheek and pulled away, cupping his cheek. “Tyrion,” he said fondly. “You’re still alive.”

Tyrion chuckled. “I’d say the same to you - and breeding, too,” he said, wagging a scroll at Jaime, who furrowed his brow. “This just arrived from Winterfell.”

Jaime’s heart leapt. “From Brienne?”

“Well, from Sansa,” Tyrion said, “but yes. It’s news of Brienne - good news,” he added hastily. Jaime’s heart slowed and then quickened as he took the scroll from Tyrion. He opened it but the words were a blur. He shook his head to clear it. “Twins,” Tyrion said, lifting his hand to lower the scroll away from Jaime’s eyes. Jaime met Tyrion’s eyes. “Twin girls.”

Jaime’s laughter burst from him, a chuckle of pure happiness. He heard Arya’s gasp of delight behind him. “Twin girls?” he repeated.

Tyrion nodded. “I believe they are named Visenya and Nymeria.”

Arya groaned with happiness behind him. Jaime turned to look at her and found her grinning. “Those names are too good to go with Lannister,” she said. Jaime rolled his eyes, cupping Tyrion’s cheek once more before standing and regarding Daenerys again. Tyrion went to join her. Jaime had not noticed the Hand badge on his lapel until now. He gave him a half-smile and Tyrion cocked his head in recognition.

“Your grace,” Tyrion greeted, “I am not sure how my brother has failed to acquit himself up to this point but I am sure that he has. He is here to fight Cersei and to work with you, I swear to you.”

“You understood that from one conversation?” Daenerys asked sharply. Tyrion chuckled.

“No, your grace. I understood that from the raven I just received from Sansa Stark, at Winterfell, where Jaime’s wife, Lady Brienne of Tarth has been labouring to bring Jaime’s child into the world. Lady Brienne has been delivered of twin girls, to go with the girl that he already has with her.” Daenerys’ gaze grew curious. Tyrion pressed on.

“I know my brother and sister almost as well as they know each other, though perhaps not quite so intimately.” Jaime shot an incredulous glare at Tyrion, who only smirked. “Cersei will see Jaime’s marriage as a betrayal, will see the news of his children as betrayals. She would not take him back.”

Daenerys regarded Tyrion for a moment and then looked at Jaime. “Is this true, Ser Jaime?”

Jaime inclined his head. “My sister is a very possessive person, your grace. She considered me a possession, which she has now lost to another woman.”

“Your wife, Ser Jaime, she is of the Stormlands?”

“Yes, your grace. She is heir to her father’s title of Evenstar.”

“And she is also the Lady of Casterly Rock.”

Jaime bobbed his head. “Yes, your grace, though I have not officially taken up my title as lord, and will not unless you determine it to be the best thing for the realm.”

“You have pretty words, Ser Jaime, like your brother.” With a side glance, Jaime met Tyrion’s eyes. “Why do you live at Winterfell? Are you hiding from your sister?”

“My wife serves Sansa Stark,” Jaime informed her, “as her sworn sword. I go where my wife wants to be.”

“Your wife serves while she is pregnant?”

Jaime shook his head. “No, your grace. She is Sansa’s friend, rather than her protector, during her pregnancies.”

“And Sansa Stark supports you, despite her father’s opinion of you?” Jaime’s lips stretched into a smile.

“She does, your grace.” He glanced at Tyrion. “I believe that my brother had a calming effect on her attitude towards Lannisters.” Daenerys’ interested eyes turned to Tyrion.

“Sansa was my child bride,” Tyrion informed Daenerys, whose eyes went wide, “before we were jointly accused of killing Joffrey. She fled North and I fled to Essos, to you.”

Daenerys digested this information and then turned back to Jaime. “Did you come here to be pardoned?”

“No, your grace. I understand how difficult it is to forgive those who have killed one’s father.” Tyrion flinched, giving Jaime some satisfaction. “I came as you requested, missed my children’s birth to be here, because I believe that you will fight against the threat from Beyond the Wall and I want you to know that I support you, against my sister. I did not believe that my staying in Winterfell, as much as I wanted to, would have secured that.”

“And after we have defeated the threat of the Others?” Daenerys asked. “Do you support my claim over your sister’s then too?”

Jaime smiled slightly. “Your grace, my sister has no claim to the Iron Throne but that she sits it. She has no care for anything except her power. Her children are all dead and she chose to blow up the remnants of her allies to destroy one girl who opposed her. She does not deserve to be queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I believe that you do. The very fact that you will fight the Others shows that you do.”

“And my claim, you do not believe that that means that I deserve to be queen?”

“Your father had a claim,” Jaime said with a level voice, “and I believed that that meant that I should fight for him, protect him even while he burned men alive, even while he raped his wife over and over again. A claim is not enough without a love for the people, for the realm that you would swear to protect.”

The room was silent. Daenerys met his eyes. Jaime kept his chin high. He would not win Daenerys’ trust or pardon with lies. He had come to tell the truth and she could judge him fairly.

“Why did you wait until your father was at the gates?” she asked quietly. There was no one but them in the room. It felt like there was no one else in the room.

“King Aerys asked me to give him my father’s head - and then he ordered his pyromancer to burn down all of King’s Landing, every person, including himself and his gooddaughter and her children. I killed Aerys first and then the pyromancer, and then I hunted every pyromancer through King’s Landing, while my father entered the city. I was not in the castle when your goodsister and your niece and nephew were killed. I would have protected them with my life, as I would have for your brother, if I had been with him when he died.”

“And you told others this story?”

“Do you believe that Ned Stark - that Robert Baratheon would have believed me? The whole continent named me Kingslayer that day.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because you deserve to know who your father was and why he was killed.” Jaime smiled. “And because my wife says that I only punish myself when I don’t tell anybody else.”

“But you told her?”

Jaime nodded slowly. “And she believed me, though all she knew of me was the myth. She always saw the best in me.” The room continued in its silence. “I’m not asking you to see the best in me like she did. Brienne is- Brienne is a special case and I have done many things that I am ashamed of. I did kill Aerys and I don’t regret it. I am ashamed that it took me so long to do, when I could have saved Rickard and Brandon Stark, could have saved your mother from so much misery.”

Daenerys glanced at Jon, who watched Jaime with level eyes. He found Tyrion looking at him in a new light and hated the fact that Tyrion had assumed the worst of him for so long. Arya and Podrick stood strongly at his back. “You are pardoned,” she said in a steady voice. “I will never like you, Ser Jaime, but you are pardoned.” Jaime closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again to incline his head at the queen. One queen down; one more to survive.

“Lady Arya, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Daenerys said with a smile, nodding at the stoic girl standing by Jaime’s side. “Your brother has told me much of you. We were not expecting you.”

Arya inclined her head. “I serve my sister, Sansa, and my friend, Brienne, and my options for serving were to see Brienne through another birth or to escort her husband south and ensure that he returned to her. The latter involved much less blood and screaming, though admittedly about as much babyish whining.”

Tyrion laughed aloud. Jaime nodded wisely. “Yes, Podrick has been truly difficult on this journey.” Arya rolled her eyes at him.

“I believe that you are a soldier, Lady Arya,” Daenerys said with a smile.

Arya nodded. “Yes, your grace. I was taught by Sandor Clegane and my lady Brienne.”

“And your sister does not mind you fighting? Your brother tells me that she is an extremely graceful lady.”

Arya smiled. “Sansa is her own type of warrior.” Jaime found Tyrion half-smiling. Daenerys inclined her head at Arya.

“You are welcome to rest here tonight. We leave for King’s Landing tomorrow.”

XXX

Cersei’s smirk was vicious as they arrived. She sat her throne like she had been born to it, not too dissimilar to the way that Daenerys sat. She knew that she held the power here, even if Daenerys’ armies were larger, even if she had dragons. This was Cersei’s space and they had come to ask for her help.

Jaime watched as her eyes searched in the crowd. He wondered if she were looking for him, or for Tyrion. He wondered if she knew that he was coming. He wondered whether he wanted her to already know or not.

This would be the first time he would see her since he’d left to lay siege to Riverrun. The last time he’d seen her, he’d sworn to serve Tommen, had been stripped of his white cloak even so. The last time he’d loved her had been a long time before. He’d known, the last time he’d seen her, that he loved the woman who had ridden away in his suit of armour, his sword at her side. He’d known even then.

Love for Brienne flooded his chest as he took his seat, beside Tyrion, who was beside the queen. Daenerys wanted Jaime close for this. He thought that it was half-distrust, half-remaining belief that the Lannister brothers being on her side could help her get Cersei’s armies too.

Daenerys’ dragons roared in the distance. Cersei half-smirked at them. “You could have brought your beasts closer,” she said to Daenerys.

Daenerys’ smile was tight. “They are happy flying.”

“I know why you are here,” Cersei said, her hands cupping the ends of each of her armrests. “But I want to talk to you about something else first.” Jaime found that Euron Greyjoy was staring at him, smirking at him. Jaime glanced away, back to Cersei. “You had two brothers, like me. You even thought you would marry one of them once. When Viserys betrayed you, what did you do?”

“My husband burnt him with liquid gold,” Daenerys said smoothly.

“And your other brother, Rhaegar, if he were here now, and he disappointed you too, what would you do? He disappointed me when he died. I wanted to marry him but he married Elia Martell instead. Your father didn’t like mine. That was why he kept Jaime close. Didn’t work out too well for him, did it?” Jaime’s jaw tightened. Daenerys only smiled. “Go on, what would you do if you had two brothers who betrayed you?”

“I would kill them,” the queen said simply. Cersei’s smirk widened.

“Then you understand why it infuriates me that you arrive with my brothers at your side. Traitors and fools, both. Would I work with you when they sit beside you?”

Daenerys chuckled. “They each warned me that you would say so but I knew that there would be some love beneath that. I grieved for Viserys when he betrayed me, when he sold me to buy himself an army. Neither of your brothers have ever sold you.”

Cersei cocked her head to one side. “No. It was my father who sold me to Robert Baratheon. I became a queen and then one brother killed my son and my father and the other let him, then ran off with a woman he impregnated, leaving me alone.” Jaime looked at his lap, then at Tyrion, whose eyes were narrowed on Cersei. “I want to help you.”

Daenerys’ eyes widened. Jaime looked at Cersei. She was smirking. “On what conditions?” Daenerys asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” Cersei said, glancing at Euron who smirked. “My brothers betrayed me, left me alone in my grief and loneliness and, yet, they both get second chances. All I want is five heads.”

“Five heads?” Daenerys repeated.

“Yes. I want my brothers’ wives and my three nieces, Catelyn, Visenya and Nymeria.” She said his daughters’ names scathingly. White fury burst behind Jaime’s eyes.

“No,” Tyrion burst.

Cersei smirked. “My good, true brother. He saw himself as little Sansa’s saviour, even while our family was murdering hers. He wasn’t here to stop her being raped and abused by the Boltons, of course.”

Jaime saw Jon Snow’s lip curl. He heard Arya’s growl and he saw that Tyrion’s jaw was twitching. He wanted to lay his hand on his arm, to tell him to be calm, that it was all going to be okay. Sansa was in the North, safe, protecting Brienne. He heard her in his head, saying “I’ll look after her, you know?” and Jaime did know. Sansa was good, a truly good person.

“I am no butcher queen,” Daenerys said and her voice was cold. “My Hand speaks with my voice. Not for anything will I butcher two women and three babes.”

“Not for a chance of saving Westeros? What will they say in the histories? They will call you weak,” Cersei mocked but her smirk said that she knew that Daenerys would never agree to kill Brienne, Sansa and the girls. “Of course, there is another way.” Jaime narrowed his eyes. “My brothers could beg.”

Jaime felt the humiliation settle in his stomach. He and Tyrion, down on their knees, pleading with Cersei. And she would never say yes. Never. He wanted to tell Daenerys, to make sure she said no. Cersei would never, ever say yes unless she saw something worth it for her.

He glanced at Daenerys, who smiled. “Very well. You will be the villain in the histories, Cersei, not me, not my armies. Lord Snow says that, in the North, they say that the North remembers. Well, Westeros will remember this, your failure. You are weak and will soon be powerless. I promise you that the moment that we defeat the Others, we will turn and burn you out of this castle.”

And, with that, Daenerys stood and strode out of the clearing. Cersei smirked at Jaime and Tyrion and left herself, with all her retinue. Euron winked at Jaime on his way out. Jaime’s stomach burned at the failure. He had missed his children’s birth for this.


	14. Chapter 14

Sansa found Brienne sitting with the babies on her chest. They were bigger every day, needier too. Sansa helped Brienne as well as she could, especially at night, but Sansa had to run Winterfell, too, and get ready for a huge army to arrive - as well as all of the people who would inevitably flee into Winterfell. And all of this during winter.

“They’re sleeping,” Sansa commented quietly. Brienne nodded and scooped them both up carefully. It was a skill - carrying them both - that Brienne had developed fairly quickly. She put them in their large bassinet and the two small babies turned to face each other, their pouty lips sticking out in sleep. Sansa smiled, brushing her fingers over Visenya’s golden curls. They were already not identical. Nymeria’s hair was white-blonde, like Brienne’s, and Visenya looked like Jaime. Their blue eyes at birth had morphed into the sapphire of Brienne's, though, matching.

Brienne’s eyes had dropped to the scroll in Sansa’s hand. Sansa smiled apologetically. “They failed.” Sansa had known that they would fail, had known even as she sent Jaime and Arya off to help. Cersei would never listen to reason, not about helping her enemies and saving the realms. It just wasn’t in Cersei to do so. Sansa had known that Jaime had known the same. He had gone to prove his loyalty to Daenerys. The scroll did not say whether or not he had done so but Sansa assumed he must have - because he was returning with his head attached to his body.

She’d felt pretty secure in her view that Tyrion would never let Daenerys kill Jaime. In fact, she would have been willing to stake her life upon it. She didn’t know whether Tyrion had spouted some pretty words to save his brother or if, like Brienne had suggested he do, he had told the truth of what had happened that day in King’s Landing, when he had slain Aerys. She hoped it was the latter. Truth spoke better than lies and it put Jaime in Daenerys’ higher esteem from the beginning of their relationship.

“Jaime is safe?” Brienne ensured. Sansa nodded.

“Safe and on his way back to meet these two. You should find Cat and tell her.” Brienne smiled.

“Would you stay with these two? I feel as though Cat never gets me all to herself.” Sansa nodded and Brienne rushed off to find her elder daughter. Cat, in fact, quite often sat in Sansa’s office during the day, so that Brienne would have a chance of rest. Cat played nicely in the corner, with the toys that they had for her, or she sat on Sansa’s lap while she wrote, or she was an absolute terror and Sansa took her outside to calm her down.

Sansa sat in the chair beside the babies, watching them at peace. There were a thousand other things she could have been doing but none that she would prefer. She wasn’t sure whether she would ever be a mother, whether she could ever put herself through it, but she would always have these three girls who she loved.

XXX

Brienne found Cat in the nursery, eating at the small table. She was refusing her food from the maid so Brienne took up her position. “Hello, Catelyn,” she said and Cat gave her such a big, toothy smile that Brienne was able to feed her a bit of the stew. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you as much as I should have.”

She talked to Cat all the way through feeding her, grateful more than ever for Sansa. Brienne would not have survived these few months without her. And now Jaime was coming home and everything would be in colour again; her heart would rest easy again. They would survive the Long Night and live happily together, forever.

And she would sleep again. Even the nights where Sansa shared her bed, she dreamed of dead creatures coming to steal her babies. She dreamt that Jaime was one of them and he arrived and she welcomed him and then he clawed out her throat. She woke in sobs so loud that she woke the twins.

Visenya and Nymeria. She loved them, loved their spirits, loved the way that everybody else loved them. Cat pretended to look after them. Sansa would drop everything to hold them if Brienne only asked. The servants and the Northerners brought them presents and called them Northern darlings. They were not Northerners but they might as well have been.

She couldn’t wait to tell Jaime that, couldn’t wait to tell him everything. Soon, they would be in bed together again - and he was right; she wanted him so much, no matter what she’d said when she was eight months pregnant - and they would be talking and fucking and living together. She closed her eyes and held Cat close. It would be soon.

XXX

“They’re close,” Sansa panted at Brienne every time she dashed past her. Despite all of her preparations and planning, Sansa was still running around making sure that everything was perfect, ready for the armies to arrive. Brienne had tried to help her but the babies had started crying so she had taken them to their nursery and fed them, her eyes on the window, waiting for Jaime to arrive.

By the time they were sitting peacefully, she could see the snake of the army approaching. She could see three dragons in the skies. Sansa appeared at the door frame, her smile wide. “Come on, I’ll carry one and you can hold Cat’s hand when we go and greet them. I’m sure Jaime is desperate to see them.”

Brienne knew that he would be. She followed Sansa down into the courtyard, where various others were waiting too, including Sandor Clegane who half-smiled at Brienne. A few more of Sansa’s advisers waited eagerly for the first sign of the Dragon Queen.

Brienne saw Jaime before she saw Daenerys Targaryen. He rode only two rows behind her, beside a man with dark skin whose clothes identified him as one of the Unsullied. As Brienne’s eyes met her husband’s, though, she forgot about the Unsullied, and Daenerys Targaryen, and only ached to have him in her arms.

It was only a few moments but it seemed like an eternity. In her arms, Visenya had opened her wide blue eyes, Brienne’s eyes. Brienne was grateful that Cat had green eyes, like Jaime. She wanted them all to look like Jaime. Cat was jumping up and down beside her. Jaime was getting off his horse - and then he was there, in front of her, smiling softly and cupping her cheek and then Cat was in his arms and his stump was wrapped around her back and she was cradling Visenya to her chest while she tried to protect her from Cat’s excitable kicks.

When she finally pulled away, she did not go far, only far enough to kiss Jaime softly and look into his eyes. “I missed you, wench,” he said. Brienne nodded, feeling her throat too tight to speak. He was here, in front of her, and they would never need to be apart again. “Is this…” Jaime trailed off as he glanced down at the baby in Brienne’s arms. There was no way for him to know which baby was in her arms.

“Visenya,” she filled in hoarsely for him. Jaime placed Cat on the ground and she immediately toddled off with a shriek of laughter into Arya’s welcoming arms. Brienne passed her baby into her husband’s arms and watched him fall in love with her. Every time she saw this man, she thought he was the most beautiful she had ever seen him, but watching his eyes change as he took in their baby for the first time was a new Jaime, an even more beautiful Jaime.

His green eyes shone with tears. Visenya fit her small hand around the end of Jaime’s stump. Brienne pressed her fingers to her eyes to hide the tears, wishing they were alone, wishing they were just them, just their family.

“Where’s Nymeria?” Jaime asked, breaking his gaze from their daughter to look at Brienne. He smiled widely as though he remembered that she was real and kissed her softly again. Brienne had never forgotten what it was to be loved by Jaime but the reminder was so soft in her heart.

“Sansa has her,” Brienne said, nodding over to Sansa, who was crouching before Jaime’s brother and offering him their baby to hold. She could see the smile they shared.

XXX

“I think this must be a scene from my father’s dreams,” Tyrion said as Sansa grew closer, the little bundle in her arms stretching. She crouched down before Tyrion, allowed her dress to get wet in the melting snow on the floor. He smiled at her.

“I doubt he ever truly believed that I would walk towards you holding a child, Tyrion,” Sansa said, glancing down at Nymeria. “This is your niece, Nymeria.”

“She is beautiful,” Tyrion said, brushing his thumb over her brow. Sansa bit her lip and nodded. “May I-” he cut himself off, holding his arms out. Sansa nodded and passed the baby to her first husband gladly. He held her as though she were something precious, which, of course, she was, and looked at her like she was a new species, more special, more treasured than any other baby.

“It’s good to see you, my lord,” Sansa whispered, meeting Tyrion’s eyes. She reached to brush a tear that had escaped his eye. He nodded.

“You too, my lady.”

“I’m sorry for-” Tyrion cut her off with a shake of his head.

“No apologies, Sansa. You should have stayed to be condemned alongside me? No, you shouldn’t have, but I should have been there to save you from Ramsay.” Sansa flinched and then leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Forgiven,” she murmured, meeting his eyes and then ripping her gaze from his. “Now, I imagine that Jaime will want to meet this child and, if Arya has quite finished holding Cat, you may meet her.”

Sansa pulled herself up and allowed herself to grin at Jaime’s cry of “Sansa, my dear!”. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, as she had with Tyrion. “I’ve missed you.”

“I have missed you too, Jaime,” Sansa said truthfully. “You will see that I successfully cared for Brienne.” Jaime inclined his head. Brienne glared at the pair of them. “Not that she needed caring for, of course,” Sansa added with a wink. Jaime grinned.

“Lady Brienne,” Tyrion cut in. Sansa glanced at him with exasperation. He winked up at her. “It is a pleasure to meet you now that you are my goodsister.”

“You too, Lord Tyrion,” Brienne said, inclining her head. Arya limped over with Cat attached to her leg, giggling wildly. “Arya,” she said fondly. Sansa smiled as Arya first embraced Brienne and then Sansa. She scooped the child up from her leg to her arms. Cat grinned.

“I can’t believe how good she has got with her walking,” Jaime said, regarding Cat. It was true that Cat had gone from toddling to running in just a few short months. Jaime turned to murmur something in his wife’s ear and she smiled softly at him. Sansa ached at their familiarity. 

“And this is your uncle, Cat,” Arya was saying to the little girl who was watching her seriously now. She followed Arya’s finger to Tyrion and furrowed her brow. Arya passed Cat down to the floor, where she looked up at Tyrion. Sansa bit her lip to contain her laughter as she regarded him. Then, after a few moments, she reached up to poke his scar.

All five of them burst out laughing. Jaime reached to take Nymeria from Tyrion’s arms and coo at his daughter, just as Daenerys and Jon approached.

“Your grace,” Sansa and Brienne said deferentially. Jon smiled as Cat turned to gasp at him and clamber up his leg. He picked her up into his arms and Sansa saw the way that Daenerys watched her brother with soft eyes.

“It is a pleasure to receive you at Winterfell, your grace,” Sansa said.

“It is a pleasure to visit, Lady Sansa. It is as beautiful as your brother described, as you are.” Sansa smiled at the comment. “I hear that you have a rather complicated relationship with my Hand. I would love to hear all about it.”

Sansa hummed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure he would appreciate me divulging his disloyal, cheating ways,” she teased, glancing down at Tyrion, who scowled up at her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, my dear.” Sansa clucked her tongue at him and Daenerys smiled. Then she turned to look at Brienne. Brienne flushed immediately. Visenya was pressed against her chest.

“So, you’re the woman that lost us our army,” Daenerys said to Brienne. Brienne’s eyes went wide. Jaime looked ready to say something, until they saw the amusement playing on the queen’s lips. Sansa smiled. “And these are your three babies.”

“Dragon,” Cat squawked from Jon’s arms. Daenerys chuckled.

“And my hand’s nieces,” the queen added. Brienne nodded. “I am happy to see you have recovered from the birthing bed well, my lady.” Brienne thanked Daenerys quietly and she smiled. “Lady Sansa, would you be so kind as to show me to my chambers? I would like to freshen up before dinner.” Sansa agreed and led her away, along with Jon, who gave Cat back to Arya.

XXX

“So, I’ve been waiting to congratulate you, Lady Brienne,” Tyrion said. Jaime looked at his brother oddly. “For making an honest man out of my brother.” Jaime rolled his eyes. Brienne snorted and Jaime poked her with his stump, his hand too busy holding his other baby girl, his Nymeria. Visenya was in her mother’s arms.

“Tyrion, perhaps we could have dinner, with Sansa and Arya too,” Jaime suggested. “All in our chambers. In a few days.” Tyrion nodded.

“A dinner party, how very domestic of you,” he teased. Jaime tutted and Tyrion laughed. “We’ll talk more, Jaime. You go and rest with your wife. I’ll go and Hand.”

“Enjoy yourself.”

Stealing Cat back from Arya, Jaime took her hand into his and they headed for their chambers. “I’ve missed you,” Brienne said as they reached the door. Jaime kissed her softly. They headed inside. The chambers were a mess. Jaime chuckled as Brienne looked at him apologetically. He shook his head, kissing her yet again. They placed Visenya and Nymeria in their bassinet beside the bed and lay down with Cat between them, all holding each other.

“The girls are being good now. They’ve been terrors.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone.”

Brienne shook her head. “You’re back now.”

“I’m back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is a whole chapter of Jaime and Brienne being reunited I have no apologies
> 
> One more chapter - which is written but not checked - and then we're finished!


	15. Chapter 15

The Long Night came and went, taking with it many. Tyrion and Sansa had furiously protected Cat, Visenys and Nymeria in the crypts while Brienne and Jaime commanded in the battle. Their family came through it all with only one loss: Sandor Clegane, who died protecting Arya before she killed the Night King. Jaime and Brienne were prepared when Arya wanted to share their bed for a few nights. Jaime teased her about the smith who had returned with him and Cat played with her and Arya held the babies and, slowly by surely, they saw life return behind her eyes.

The next month passed slowly. Winter slowly descended upon the world. It felt like cheating that, even after they had defeated the Long Night, they still had to survive winter, but Sansa was intelligent with her choices, with her rationing and with the supplies that she had brought into Winterfell. She returned some to their homes and allowed some to stay at Winterfell, all determined by her own calculations.

Watching her rule, while Jon floundered under the weight of new found knowledge, was a joy to behold. She had settled into her role so well. Arya, too, had found a role in being Sansa’s protector at meetings, standing by her side throughout the day, which allowed Brienne to spend more time with Cat and the babies and with Jaime.

Visenya and Nymeria started smiling about a month after Winterfell had defeated the Others. Visenya smiled first for her beloved uncle Tyrion. Nymeria first gave Arya a smile. Jaime and Brienne had not been surprised whatsoever that their daughters, who were loved and who loved so widely, had granted others their first smiles. They had enamoured the whole castle, just like their big sister had.

Cat preened under the amount of attention she got from the kitchen staff. They were always sending her little gifts in cakes and sweets. Brienne, too, had found Arya and Sansa feeding her as many cakes as she liked when they had her alone. Jaime was a soft touch when she asked for sweets too. At the rate she was going, Cat would be a sickly little girl with no teeth. And, yet, they continued despite Brienne’s warnings.

Brienne looked up as Jaime entered, Cat sitting on his hip. She put down her quill. The new schedule could wait. She greeted her husband with a kiss and then one for her daughter too. Then she turned her lips back to Jaime.

“Oh, good, you’re being soft,” Arya said from the door. She held Nymeria in her arms and Sansa followed with Visenya. “It shouldn’t be long until we have another baby, then.”

Brienne spluttered, “I don’t think so. I’m not long since the birthing bed.”

Arya shrugged. “If you got pregnant now, there would be a year between the twins and the new one. There’s not much more than that between Cat and the twins.”

“Exactly,” Brienne said, standing and stealing her fussy baby from Arya. Nymeria let out a little whimper and pawed for Brienne’s breasts. She settled herself back down on the chair and began to feed Nym. She knew that none of her family minded her feeding the babies in front of them, other than Podrick, who found it mildly embarrassing. But he wasn’t there. He’d been sent up to the next village to deliver supplies. He was often running errands for Sansa. Brienne was sure that it wouldn’t be long until he told her that he would be staying in the North after Brienne left - to go wherever they would go.

Sansa sighed, perching on the edge of the desk. Brienne could see that Visenya was waking from a rest - and she knew that she would want feeding too, soon. “You have to have another baby, Brienne,” Sansa said, her eyes wide. “You have to have at least one boy, else all the Lannisters will disappear.” Jaime waggled his eyebrows at Brienne and she scowled. Jaime’s recent activity made her sure that he wanted another baby. He was at her twice a day, every day - not that Brienne was complaining. She just wasn’t sure that she wanted to put her body through another pregnancy, just yet. She wanted to fight, to get her body back into fighting condition, and then let it go to waste again.

“Maybe Tyrion will find himself a wife,” Brienne said idly, glancing down at her schedule and then flicking her eyes up to see Sansa flush, whether in embarrassment or anger at the idea, Brienne wasn’t sure. “Perhaps Queen Daenerys will ask him to make a political alliance.”

Sansa tutted. “Queen Daenerys should not force anybody to marry where they would not wish it.”

Jaime gave Sansa a knowing look. “Sansa, you know as well as I do that Tyrion would do anything for the chance of love - even a political marriage.” Sansa scowled.

Arya clapped her hands together, startling Cat, who looked at her with a happy little grin. “I don’t care if Tyrion Lannister is going to have a child.” Arya frequently said Tyrion’s full name, with the same intonation as she had said the Imp previously. Jaime and Brienne had not liked that, though, in their presence, so she had started with ‘Tyrion Lannister’. Sansa still frowned at it, which, Brienne thought at least, was Arya’s intention. “I want you to have another child. It would mean that you stayed here longer, at least.”

Brienne met Jaime’s eyes and he grinned at her. She pursed her lips. “Arya, we are going to stay here for a while yet.”

“You are?” Arya said cautiously, her eyes darting to Jaime and then back to Brienne. “Why?”

“We went to speak to Jon earlier,” Jaime said. Sansa narrowed her eyes. “He asked my lovely wife to command his army about a week ago.” Brienne looked at the floor to avoid Sansa and Arya’s shocked, glad looks. 

“What did you say?” Arya asked eagerly.

Brienne smiled, her chest comfortable. “We decided to stay where we are.”

“You’re not going to fight Cersei?” Sansa’s quiet voice had something behind it, not quite judgment but not quite approval.

Brienne shook her head. “Cersei asked for my head, remember? It’s not worth the risk, and we don’t want to leave the girls.” Sansa and Arya shared a look and then smirks grew on each of their faces.

“You’re already pregnant,” Arya said smugly. Brienne flushed hotly.

“I am not,” she denied. Jaime smirked at her. “I am not!” she insisted. Sansa and Arya shared another knowing look. “I don’t want to fight Cersei so I must be pregnant, is that it?”

Arya shrugged. “I’ve never known you to back away from a fight otherwise.”

“I offered to fight for you when I was pregnant with Cat,” Brienne reminded her. Arya narrowed her eyes. Cat’s little head popped up at hearing her name. “I am not pregnant.”

“Yet,” Arya murmured. 

XXX

After that afternoon, where they had talked and laughed until the evening meal and then into the night, they didn’t see many more of Arya’s smiles and teasing. In fact, every time they saw her - which became far less frequently - she looked as though she was deep in thought and snapped at anybody who interrupted her. Brienne worried about this until Arya appeared in front of her, when she was leading the guard shift one night.

The moon was sky in the eye. It illuminated the sword at Arya’s hip. Brienne’s eyes met Arya’s. “What’s going on?”

“I have to kill Cersei.”

Brienne closed her eyes briefly, her heart wrenching. “How are you going to do that? Sandor isn’t here to kill his brother.”

Arya’s eyes went to the floor. “I know that,” she said quietly. “Gendry is coming with me.” Brienne caught sight of the shadow at the end of the corridor. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Make sure you come back,” Brienne said briefly.

Arya nodded and gave Brienne one final smile. She turned and then paused. Without looking back, she said, “Tell Jaime that it’s not personal, will you?”

Brienne smiled. “Of course, Arya.”

And she did, as soon as Arya left, disappearing into the night. He cried and she held him, stroking the hair away from his forehead.

XXX

Despite the political machinations and the battles and the deaths that were occurring in King’s Landing, life passed relatively peacefully in the North. They heard that Cersei was dead on the same day that Brienne finally admitted that she was, indeed, pregnant with their fourth child. The messenger had arrived, just moments before Brienne arrived at Sansa’s office, an excitable Jaime at Brienne’s side, his hands roaming over her stomach, too high really for where the baby would grow.

When they’d walked in, Sansa had said, “How do you already know?”

“What?” Brienne had asked but Jaime had already known. His face had fallen, his hands had retreated from Brienne’s skin and he had gone away inside. Sansa hadn’t seen any of this. She explained the letter that Jon had sent, explained Dany’s coronation, Jon’s wedding to her, and Arya’s sword wetted with Cersei’s blood.

Brienne had taken Jaime back to their chambers and held him, his head on her lap. He spoke of Cersei and then of them and their happiness and then Cersei some more. They talked of her as much as Jaime wanted, until he didn’t want to anymore.

Arya finally returned to Winterfell long after that. In fact, Brienne was so large in her pregnancy when Arya returned that Sansa had banned her from walking along the ramparts. Winter had settled in very comfortably and Sansa was petrified of Brienne falling and hurting herself. She’d recruited Jaime and Podrick to keep Brienne in the castle proper.

Brienne had paced angrily until Arya finally arrived in her chambers. Cat had screeched and even toddling Nymeria and struggling-to-pull-herself-up Visenya let out big toothy smiles. Brienne watched with a comfortable joy in her chest as Arya accepted hugs and cuddles and kisses from each. And then she looked up and finally fell into Brienne’s arms. Brienne held her as though she were one of her own children. She had been to war and returned, whole and not quite smiling but content.

“Gendry?” Brienne asked quietly.

Arya ducked his head. “He’s sorting the horses. I was eager to see Sansa, and you and the children.” She paused, meeting Brienne’s eyes. “Jaime?”

Her voice was hesitant. Brienne smiled and brushed some hair away from her face. “He’s okay, Arya.”

“Does he hate me?”

Brienne shook her head. “He never could.”

Arya snorted. “I’m sure he could.”

“I would be very angry with him if he did.”

“I’m not sure you could do much, now,” Arya said, nodding to Brienne’s stomach. “Is it twins again?”

“No,” Brienne said strongly. Arya held her hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Everyone keeps asking me that.”

“And you’re certain?”

Brienne shrugged. “I didn’t know with Enya and Nym. Maybe. I hope not.”

“I hope so. More children to corrupt.”

“Are you staying?” Brienne asked.

Arya smiled. “For a while. I haven’t seen a child come out of you in a few years.”

Brienne swatted her head.

She was indeed in the room when Brienne brought their fourth child into the world, not long after she’d returned. Jaime knelt at one side and Arya at the other while Sansa barked orders and had towels and water brought to them. The midwife and Sansa and even Arya told Jaime that it was improper for him to be in the room. “I’ll tell Gendry that when you’re screaming for him,” Jaime had snapped at Arya, his eyes not leaving Brienne’s. “I’m staying.”

Brienne had sobbed out her thanks. Their fourth child and he was finally at her side. Finally, finally, he held her hand as she laboured, as she screamed, cried when she cried, unashamed in his love for her.

And when yet another daughter came out of her, pink and squalling, Brienne had the midwife give her to Jaime before anyone else and she beamed as she pronounced that this girl, the first girl Jaime had seen born, would be Joanna. She joined three other powerful, strong, warrior women.

“My five warriors,” Jaime murmured against Brienne’s forehead, pressing a lingering kiss to the sweaty skin.

Brienne let out a wet chuckle, almost a cry. “And our sixth,” she replied, cupping his cheek. “I love you.”

Jaime closed his eyes and opened them again. His eyes were wet. “I love you too, wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO HERE WE ARE!
> 
> The end.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! I have one more chapter to write of Changing Priorities and then all of my Game of Thrones WIPs are finished.
> 
> I have an idea for a long one shot/short chaptered fic about Jaime and Brienne starting an affair before any of the wars started. Brienne is married to Ronnington, who, in turn, starts an affair with Cersei and it's all a big mess. But we'll see!! I have to keep writing my Hinny fics and Captain Swan fics. I'm close to the end of Uneasy Truce but that has a sequel planned and I want to write my two planned sequels to Emotionally Available.
> 
> But then I can start writing these plot bunnies for one shots that I have! (And maybe I'll actually work on my actual original writing... maybe)
> 
> Thank you for the support! Hopefully you'll see some new stories from me soon.

**Author's Note:**

> so I'm going to be updating this once a fortnight
> 
> if you want to know the full story, go and read my one shot because that is exactly what is going to happen here. I just loved the story so much that I wanted to write it for real. I hope you enjoy it too


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